Tough Decisions
by TessaSpencer
Summary: Post Ep To Angela's Ex. It's the long and winding road from friendship and distance to something more.


This is an alternate ending to "Angela's Ex, Part Two." Rating: PG – NC 17  
  
1***  
  
"Angela, do you know where my tie is—the blue one with the red paisley?" Michael was searching around frantically, trying to find the last piece to his suit for the day. He never knew that getting dressed could be so difficult.  
  
"Um, is it in the laundry basket?" She finished applying the last touches to her make up and began to wonder if he'd ever learn how to dress himself without needing to ask her something or another.  
  
Exiting the bathroom and attempting a grand entrance into the bedroom, Angela was flustered to see that he wasn't paying any attention to her, again. She was dressed for a major meeting with a 40 million dollar sports client, and he didn't even notice the new dress, or the new hairstyle she had carefully worked on for the last half hour.  
  
"It's not in there," he said, as he searched furiously for his tie, his head barely visible above the basket.  
  
"Well, then, I don't know where it is," Angela said in frustration, before storming out of the room, and pulling the door shut behind her.  
  
"Thanks," Michael said in a hushed tone, as he scavenged through another drawer in search of the accessory.  
  
**Kitchen**  
  
"Morning mother. I see you're here to mooch food again?"  
  
"No, I'm here for free caffeine. Now that Tony's gone, I have no choice but get my breakfast elsewhere," Mona teased, as she sipped from her cup.  
  
Angela snickered, as she collapsed into her seat at the table, and gestured for Mona to pass her the cup of coffee.  
  
"Get your own," Mona snapped, before giving in and handing over the cup of coffee. Angela had that look on her face that was discouraging any type of argument. "Trouble in paradise?"  
  
An almost inaudible grunt escaped Angela's mouth. "Everything's fine mother, stop being so hopeful."  
  
"Well I have to have hope—without it, what am I left with?"  
  
"A son-in-law you hate?"  
  
"Exactly. And that, my dear, is why I have hope." Mona smiled as she stole her cup of coffee back from her daughter.  
  
"Yeah, well..." Angela wanted to talk to her mother, and explain how things seemed to be regressing back to the way they used to be—before Michael had left the last time—but her better angels were telling her to sit it through, and that there was bound to be an adjustment period in their relationship.  
  
In all fairness, Michael had only been back from the jungle for a little over six weeks, and in that time, he had tried everything he was capable of to make her happy. She couldn't fault him for not living up to her 'fantasy man' no matter how much she wanted to.  
  
"Well, what?" If there was a piece of gossip to be had, there was no chance Mona was going to let it pass her by.  
  
"Well, nothing. I was just thinking out loud." She sighed. There was nothing to discuss really. She just had to give their relationship time and maybe a little more understanding than she had already.  
  
"Not very coherently, apparently." Mona smiled. "It's not that bad, is it?"  
  
"No, there's nothing wrong, just give us time."  
  
"You've had time, my dear. You've been with that idiot off and on for way too long."  
  
"Thanks for your moral support."  
  
"Always, anything for you honey!" Mona's expression was overly sweet, and very forced, relaying to Angela exactly how she felt about her son-in-law's presence.  
  
"Would you tell Michael that I'm going to be home late tonight? I'm picking Sam up after school and taking her shopping in the city and out to dinner. Her birthday is tomorrow and I want to spend some time with her." That was her greatest regret about the entire situation: she almost never got to spend time with Sam anymore, because they lived on opposite sides of the county, and Michael had been demanding to be her sole focus.  
  
"Wish our girl a happy birthday from me, will ya? I'll swing by tomorrow with a gift and a card."  
  
"I will, thanks." Waving, Angela rushed out the back door and wondered if Michael would even get the message. No loss, she decided. She'd deal with the consequences later, and in the meantime, she'd look forward to spending some time with Sam.  
  
2***  
  
"Would you please call Samantha Micelli down? I'm picking her up for the day," Angela said quietly to the student secretary behind the desk.  
  
"Okay. Are you an approved adult guardian?"  
  
"Um, I don't know," Angela confessed, unsure that even if she were a guardian before, if she'd still be in light of the new living arrangement.  
  
"Your name please?"  
  
"Angela Bower."  
  
The girl went about digging through the files, searching out Sam's student folder. "I have to check to make sure it's okay that you pick her up," the young girl explained, seeming rather shy about her position of authority over the older, taller and some what intimidating blond.  
  
"Oh," Angela said, not having expected that. It was, after all, a junior high school, and although it catered to teenagers, she had hardly expected much red tape. In hindsight, she wondered if she should have called Tony and asked his permission, but there was this nagging feeling that it might be awkward for her to speak to him, and even more so if she had to ask permission to pick up Sam from school.  
  
Sitting down behind the desk, the girl opened the folder and began to peruse over the lines. "Why didn't you tell me you're her mother?!" The girl smiled broadly. "I'll call her down."  
  
Sneaking a peak over the file, there it was, clear as day in bold black font: "Angela Bower, Relationship: mother". She wondered at first if it was a typo, or if it was a misunderstanding, but deep inside she was just really happy that she was in the file, and that she was trusted with that position. Even if it was only on paper.  
  
Angela must have been more absorbed by looking at the file than she had realized, because she didn't even notice when a petite brunette stood beside her, practically jumping up and down.  
  
"Angela?"  
  
"Sam, honey!" Seeing the young girl in front of her was enough to make her want to cry. Sam was so beautiful, and was growing up so well that sometimes Angela couldn't believe how far she'd come.  
  
"What are you doin' here?" She had happily wrapped Angela in a tight hug, excited about the visit.  
  
"I skipped out of work early, and decided to take you shopping for some new treats, and then out to an early birthday dinner. I figured you'd have plans tomorrow." Angela straightened Sam's hair and smiled. "You up for some Madison Avenue binging?"  
  
"Am I? Of course I am!" Sam's already big brown eyes seemed to widen at the thought of going shopping with Angela. She missed the 'mother/daughter' adventures they had had.  
  
"Then let's blow this popstand," Angela joked, as she took Sam's hand.  
  
"Mrs. Bower," the 'secretary' called. "Could you please sign this form excusing Sam from class? Otherwise she'll have a truant on her report card."  
  
Angela nodded, and quickly signed the form, mouthing 'thank you' to the girl when she was finished. It felt strange to her to sign 'mother' beside relationship, but that's what they had her on file as, and despite the fact that her conscious mind was nearly screaming 'no, that's wrong', Angela was enjoying being Sam's mother for the day.  
  
"Let's go," Sam said cheerily, happy that Angela still wanted to spend time with her.  
  
****  
  
"So, what do you think of all the stuff we managed to get?" Angela smiled over her glass of white wine, feeling remarkably accomplished from their spending spree.  
  
"I can't believe how many things you bought! I swear you bought half of Bloomingdale's." Carefully cutting her salad, Sam laughed. "We probably could have bought more if you hadn't trapped us in the lingerie department for almost an hour." Sam watched as Angela blushed.  
  
Angela cleared her throat. "I was just looking for the perfect bra for under that new blouse I bought."  
  
"And the perfect teddy?"  
  
Angela blushed. "You saw that?"  
  
"I see everything," Sam laughed.  
  
"How did you even know what that was?"  
  
"Mona told me."  
  
Angela couldn't believe her mother had been teaching Sam about lingerie. "Don't tell your father about that educational endeavor. My mother might not live to teach you about other things."  
  
"She's already covered all of the bases," Sam said in all seriousness, still carefully working through her salad. "A girl has to be smarter, earlier," Sam said decisively.  
  
"You're kidding?" Angela hoped that her look of blatant shock wasn't as dumbfounded as she felt.  
  
"Nope. And we've already covered the honeymoon. I'm set until retirement. Mona said she'd teach me about sex after sixty once she got there." The broad smile on Sam's face proved that she knew exactly what Mona had been saying.  
  
"Dear God, your father will kill me if he ever finds out."  
  
"He'll never find out," Sam assured her. "I can't let my source of information run dry."  
  
Angela nearly choked on her sip of wine. "Went down the wrong way," she tried to cover.  
  
"Sure it did," Sam laughed.  
  
3***  
  
"I had a really awesome time tonight, Angela. It was like the old days." Sam hugged Angela once again, not wanting to let go.  
  
"I had a great time too, sweetheart, and I hope you have a wonderful birthday tomorrow."  
  
"Thank you for the clothes and the make up."  
  
"My pleasure. Just don't tell your father that I bought you a lace bra. He'll have a heart attack, and then when he recovers, he'll hunt me down and kill me."  
  
"That," Sam assured her, "Is Bonnie's. You had nothing to do with it."  
  
"Good girl," Angela winked, knowing that it would stay a secret between them, and that Sam wouldn't ever let her down. "I'll call you tomorrow, just to say hi. And maybe some time in the next week or two we can go to the club and play tennis or something. Get lunch and have some girl time?"  
  
"I'd like that." Sam didn't want to see Angela leave. If anything, she wanted to go home with her, but she knew that wasn't an option. Angela had her life with Michael and Jonathon, and there wasn't any way to really change that, nor was it within her rights to try.  
  
"So would I. I miss you so much," Angela told her, trying not to cry. The evening had just brought back so many memories, and reminded Angela of what she was missing in her life now.  
  
"I miss you too. Do you miss dad?"  
  
"Yeah, I miss you both," Angela confessed, "but he decided that he had to leave, and now you guys live in a palace, with your very own wing."  
  
"I liked it more with you and Jonathon and Mona."  
  
"I liked it a lot when you were there too. But you can come and visit me any time, and if you ever want to come for a girls' night, we'll get rid of Michael, and tell Jonathon we're watching girly movies. That will clear him out." Angela winked, batting back a tear.  
  
"Sounds good." Getting out of the car and gathering her bags, Sam tried not to turn back, afraid she'd crumble and beg Angela to take them back.  
  
It was probably best she hadn't looked back, because if she had, she would have seen Angela's strong façade crumbling, and the tears starting to fall down her cheeks.  
  
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Angela whispered, watching Sam walk through the door, and turning the car ignition on.  
  
***  
  
"And she's back," Michael's voice called into the darkness.  
  
Switching on the light in the living room, Angela sighed. Here it came, the fight she had been anticipating, although was not feeling very up to. "Amazing how I came back here when my day was done, seeing as I live here, huh?" Tossing her coat and her briefcase down on the desk, she tried not to seem too bitter, although she knew it was only a matter of time before it was an all out argument, and if she wanted things to remain 'civil' for the night, she'd have to walk away soon.  
  
"Yeah, but your day was done hours ago, and you just got home."  
  
"I took Samantha out to dinner, and we did some shopping. It's her birthday tomorrow. I guess mother didn't tell you?"  
  
"Oh, she did, this morning, but I thought it was kinda funny how you didn't tell me before you left."  
  
"I didn't think of it until I had to leave, and then I passed on a message," Angela said sweetly, wishing she didn't feel like she had stayed out past curfew. "You know, with the great Paisley tie hunt, I must have forgotten when I had seen you earlier." Her sarcasm was scathing, and she knew that she'd be bringing a bit of the argument upon herself.  
  
"Well I tell you what my plans are, and I make sure you have lots of advance notice. What if I had plans? What if I wanted to surprise you with a romantic evening at home?"  
  
"Oh yes, like when you went to Tanzania—I got four hours notice and a letter three weeks later. Oh, but that one had a picture of you with the cutest ape in it, so I shouldn't hold that against you. And surprising me with a romantic evening? That would be quite the event—something we should mark on the calendar, for sure." She knew that she shouldn't be bringing up 'old times' but it irked her to no end to see that Michael had such a short memory. It wasn't that long ago that he'd go gallivanting around the world with no consideration for her, or her feelings.  
  
"That was a long time ago," Michael spat back.  
  
"You're right," she conceded, deeming the argument too much of a hassle to continue. "Look, I'm going to bed. It's been a long day, and I'm very tired."  
  
"Yeah, see you in a bit," he called after her, hoping that Jonathon hadn't heard their little spat.  
  
Making her way up the stairs, Angela wondered if things would ever be 'normal' between them again, or if her hopes of building a real relationship with him were merely pipe dreams.  
  
4***  
  
It wasn't until she was lying in bed, remembering the day's events and considering Michael's reaction, that she realized how unhappy she was. There was no other way to describe what she was feeling in her relationship. She was unhappy.  
  
Angela wondered if she was bringing it upon herself—maybe she should have been trying harder with her relationship, but the more she thought about it, the stronger the realization hit her. She was giving it everything she was willing to sacrifice—she had even given up her best friend.  
  
She had forfeited her affection for Tony in exchange for a second chance with Michael. Granted, the feelings Angela once had for her husband were strong enough to bring them to marriage and to having a child together, but it wasn't hard to imagine that her feelings for Tony could do the same thing, given the opportunity.  
  
As she was weighing the pros and cons of her life, the ringing phone only vaguely registered with her. Her marriage woes were too complicated and demanding of her time for her to be easily distracted.  
  
"Mom, the phone," Jonathon called against the door, surprised that his mother hadn't heard it.  
  
"Thanks," she replied, before crawling across the bed, and answering the phone. "Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Angela."  
  
She was put aback to hear Tony's voice over the extension. "Hi Tony, how are you?"  
  
"I'm great," he said, wondering what was appropriate to say considering the circumstances of their currently very confused, and somewhat stalled relationship. "Um, I just wanted to thank you for taking Sam out. She really enjoyed dinner, and shopping."  
  
"Oh, don't thank me," Angela said sincerely. "I think I enjoyed it more than she did. It was great. I miss her a lot."  
  
"Sam misses you too," he admitted, wishing he could add 'so do I.'  
  
"It's hard, but I guess we're adjusting slowly but surely, right?" A part of her wanted to hear him say 'no, I want to move back' but from what Sam had told her, the Wallingford residence was the epitome of high class—why would either one of them want to leave that?  
  
"Yeah," he agreed, wondering if he was really adapting, or just pretending. "Anyway, it was really great. I think she was scared that when we moved, you'd be moving on, and she wouldn't see you any more. You've really become a fixture in her life."  
  
Biting back her tears, Angela wondered if things could get any harder. "I really do love her like she were my own daughter, and nothing will change that."  
  
"You're one of a kind, Angela Bower. Michael is damn lucky to have you," Tony told her, fondly remembering what it was like to live in the house with what he considered to be his family.  
  
A strangled mumble escaped Angela before she realized it. "I need to get to sleep now," she whispered, barely able to muster the words. "I have an early meeting in the morning."  
  
"Oh, man, I'm so sorry. I guess I just...I missed talking to you."  
  
"We should do coffee sometime," Angela suggested, suddenly realizing how much of a copout that sounded like.  
  
"That'd be great," Tony said, wondering why she really was in such a rush to get him off the phone.  
  
"Yeah. Goodnight, Tony."  
  
"Night Ang."  
  
Hanging up the phone, Angela promised herself that she would call him the next day and make sure that they set up a time to go for coffee—or lunch. She wasn't going to walk away from her best friend just because her husband was back in her life.  
  
5***  
  
"Wallingford residence, Gantley speaking." The accent seemed like something she had heard on an old sitcom. It was very...cliché considering he was the butler.  
  
"Hi, may I speak to Tony Micelli please?" Angela bit her lower lip, waiting for his response. It had taken her almost two hours to talk herself into calling Tony, despite her resolution the night before, and after having partially dialed the number several times, she hung up. This was the first time she had made it to the seventh digit.  
  
"One moment, please, ma'am."  
  
They had music playing when he put her on hold. 'Wow,' she thought, 'he really has upgraded from our pathetic excuse for a house.'  
  
"Micelli speaking, how can I help you?"  
  
"Hi, Tony, it's me..." she barely got a chance to say hi before Tony realized who it was, and greeted her happily.  
  
"Angela, hey, how ya doin'?"  
  
"I'm alright, and you?"  
  
"Pretty good. Sam's opened her gifts, and now she's out with Marcy and Bonnie. Those girls, I swear they never stop." Tony laughed, remembering how they used to run through Angela's house, and drive her nuts when she was trying to work on a major account.  
  
"That's what teenage girls are supposed to do. I'm glad she's having a good day. Do you have any plans for dinner with her tonight?"  
  
"I've managed to wrangle the night off, and I think we're gonna go to Sam's favourite restaurant. Veal Scaloppini is calling us."  
  
"That sounds great—she'll love it." Angela secretly wished she didn't have Michael around, so she could go with them. Then again, if Michael weren't around, Tony would still be living with her, and she would automatically be invited—it would be a given.  
  
"Yeah, and I love getting to spend time with her. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize that she's growing up, and she's going to be leaving me soon enough. I need to enjoy this daddy/daughter time while I can." Tony rolled his pen between his fingers, looking around his office, and wondering why she really called.  
  
"She is growing up so quickly," Angela agreed, trying to muster all of her courage to finally ask Tony about going for coffee sometime.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
There was an awkward silence.  
  
"Anyway, uh, I was, uh, wondering, if maybe..." 'Do it,' she was telling herself, 'just spit it out.' "I was wondering if maybe I might be able to convince you to go for coffee with me some time. I feel like it's been so long since we've actually talked." She breathed a sigh of relief. She had managed to do it, and now all she had to do was wait for his response.  
  
Tony was stunned. There was any number of things he expected her to say. He had even started to mentally list all of the household questions she might ask, but that wasn't on his list.  
  
"That sounds great. When did you have in mind?"  
  
Angela was stuck on the fact that he had said yes, and couldn't wrap her mind around when they might actually meet. "Well, how about early next week? We can get coffee somewhere in the city maybe?"  
  
"Sure, how about Monday?"  
  
"Alright. Where we gonna go?"  
  
"Greydog," she said almost without any thought. It was a great little coffee shop/restaurant in the village, and more importantly, it was as far from Connecticut as she could think of.  
  
Tony laughed. "You just want their Belgian waffles. With extra fruit, right?"  
  
"You know me too well."  
  
"Noon then?"  
  
"Sure," she couldn't believe she was making lunch plans with Tony. A part of her felt like she was cheating on Michael, but then again, it was only lunch, and as far as she knew adultery required other lines to be crossed—lines which were clearly drawn and cemented.  
  
"Great, I'll see you then," Tony said, feeling suddenly very giddy.  
  
"See you then," she smiled, glad she had worked up the nerve to call him.  
  
6***  
  
She showed up early, hoping that she could get the corner booth, hidden discretely in the recesses of the restaurant. When she looked around, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was quite busy, and that the odds of her running in to someone she knew were probably pretty slim.  
  
"Hey there," Tony said, before falling into a seat across from her.  
  
"Hey," Angela was beaming, incredibly thankful that he too showed up a few minutes early. "My last client cancelled on me, so I decided to escape for a while."  
  
"I took the morning off. I decided that it would be more fun to get some stuff done in the city, maybe pop over to the old neighbourhood for a while, and then head back in."  
  
"Sounds like a great morning."  
  
"Even better now that I'm capping it off with Belgian waffles and coffee with you," he said sweetly, before realizing the connotations. "I've missed talking to you," he confessed.  
  
"I've missed talking to you too. So what do you say? We'll order our food, and then we'll catch up?"  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
There was an easy comfort to the conversation that neither had anticipated. It was probably rooted in the fact that they had known each other better than anyone had ever known the other before, but somehow it was a forgotten point.  
  
***  
  
"You're kidding?" Tony looked at Angela incredulously.  
  
"No, I'm serious; I actually tried to bake the chicken with the plastic wrap on it." Angela blushed crimson at the confession, but she knew that Tony would be amused by it.  
  
"You didn't actually put it in the oven though, right?"  
  
"No, I did. But in my defense, it was the same colour as the skin would have been. It was an easy mistake to make." She laughed, remembering how she had refused to tell that point to Michael, or to explain why they were ordering in on her night to cook.  
  
"That's okay, I remember when I first got there you didn't know how to crack an egg, so I can't really fault you," he laughed at the memory. He hadn't understood her when he moved in.  
  
There was a competent, professional woman who was in her thirties, and yet she couldn't cook at all. Toast, he had imagined, would be so far out of her repertoire that she'd need him to show her.  
  
"Well, I'm getting better. I made mash potatoes and I even boiled 'em first." Angela boasted proudly.  
  
"Woowoo, Angela, you're turning into a regular Julia Childs."  
  
"Hey, watch it—no insults please! That woman is so old!"  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, you know what I mean."  
  
"So, how are things otherwise? How do you like having a staff?"  
  
"It's great," Tony said, halfheartedly. "I mean, I can tell other people to do the hand washables, and I can do the aerobic cleaning."  
  
"Sounds pretty great," she conceded. There was no way he'd ever want to leave that, she realized. There's a golf course on the property, swimming pools, riding stables, and they have their own wing of the house. There would be absolutely nothing she could do to lure him away, even if she could convince Michael that it would be a logical move to make.  
  
7***  
  
Tony and Angela had made a habit of it—every Monday they'd go to the Greydog and have lunch together. It was their time to talk, and take a break from everything that was expected of them during the normal course of their day.  
  
Lunch was long and usually only a mild distraction from their conversation. It was clear to them that the fondness they had for Mondays was not due to the fresh fruit crepes and waffles but the company itself. It was the best way they could start the week—good conversation, a friendly voice, and some friendly banter about the banalities of life.  
  
Often, after their meal, Tony would take Angela on the subway and back to the agency. They'd chat outside the tall building for a few minutes, and then would say good bye, and confirm their plans for the next week.  
  
The first week, Tony decided that it was best he accompany her on the subway—not only did it give them more time together, but he didn't have to feel awkward about offering her a ride. He didn't want to drive the town car that Mrs. Wallingford had insisted he drive, knowing that if would be one more reminder of all the differences between them the other six days a week.  
  
Their new friendship proved to be a fundamental part of their lives—although Tony and Angela had been close before, this unadulterated time together on Mondays was enough for them to just open up the dam and let the conversation flow. It was the best of all worlds: they were still involved in each other's lives, but no one else could complicate their relationship because no one was aware of their new habit. They were hardly being secretive about the lunches either; they just couldn't find a motivation to share the details with anyone.  
  
Although Angela and Tony both agreed that it would be nice to have some time with the kids as well, it was all a matter of taking baby steps—for now they were still struggling to find a dynamic that would allow them something more frequent and substantial than a lunch meeting once a week. Neither one would admit it but they had missed each other more than they had ever imagined possible.  
  
That was a fact growing painfully more obvious as time wore on.  
  
Sometimes through the week they'd call each other and think of some lame excuse—a broken tea pot to be replaced, a misplaced sweater or a slogan that required a 'sounding board.'  
  
No matter what though, rain or shine, and despite meetings and holidays, Tony and Angela found a way to have lunch. It was the one constant, and they both agreed that there wasn't anything they'd rather be doing then.  
  
8***  
  
"You're kidding." Who ever Michael was talking to was obviously telling him something fantastical. "He didn't. No. Really? Me?...Well," there was a hesitant pause. "He *actually* asked for me to be there?"  
  
The incredible tension that she had known through the years she had been with Michael was building in Angela's chest. Whatever it was that proved so exciting to him would hardly spell success for their attempt at a marriage.  
  
"Wow, yeah, count me in," Michael said enthusiastically, before hanging up the phone.  
  
"That got you excited," Angela commented, trying to sound blasé.  
  
"It was great news and an invite to a very prestigious event."  
  
"They found the lost tribe of Iga-bada whatever the hell it was?" Her voice betrayed her, exuding very distinctive bitterness.  
  
"I-jah Bendai Quixi," Michael corrected, "and they did one better—they combined my research with theirs and discovered that what we thought were the I-jah were actually," by this point he was beaming, "primally equipped African settlers—probably escaping some kind of bondage."  
  
"Oh...Well, congrats. I'm sure they're happy to be found." Going back to her folder on the coffee drinking habits of 18-24 year olds, she wondered what (other than a fondness for readily available sex) she had in common with her husband.  
  
"They're dead, so I doubt they care," he snapped, growing angry that she couldn't wrap her mind around how important that was to him. "They've invited us to a conference in Taipei."  
  
"Oh." That got her attention—he was going to Taiwan?  
  
"It is at the end of this month, for one week, and it will culminate in an awards ceremony." Michael tried not to sound too bitter. "I'm going to receive the National Geographic award for achievement."  
  
"Wow," Angela said, trying to muster some enthusiasm and knowing that she was falling horribly short.  
  
"We leave on the Friday evening and we're back the following week on Sunday morning," he stated flatly, so angry that she felt so little regard for his career—he wasn't sure he could speak to her without being outwardly cruel.  
  
"We?"  
  
"Well, I want you and Jonathon to be there with me when I'm given the most prestigious award I can receive for my work. I've earned this, and I don't want anything to make it less than perfect."  
  
"I can't leave the agency for that long," she argued, wondering if he really prioritized his career that much higher than hers.  
  
"It's called a vacation, and you can take one—you've not taken any time off since Jonathon was born." There was no way he was losing this fight. He'd even resort to an ultimatum if necessary.  
  
"I've taken long weekends, and gone on a few short trips," Angela argued, buying herself some time to think of a way out. There wasn't anything she couldn't clear off her desk, if needed, but at the same time, there was something about taking a vacation to go to Taiwan and schmooze with a bunch of archaeologists that made her more than a little reluctant to do it. "Besides, I've just got things working smoothly, and to take time off now is like telling your kid 'you can walk, now run!'"  
  
"You can, it's your agency, and you said it yourself: it's finally up and running."  
  
"I'd rather not take off three months into operating in the black," she countered. This was going to be a tooth and nail battle, she knew it.  
  
"Aw, come on Angela, you won't even think about it, and I'm asking you to do something that means so much to me! I'm only going to get this award once in my life, and they're choosing to do it now—why don't you think I deserve to have you by my side when I accept it?"  
  
"It's not that I don't think I should be there—it's that I don't know if I can. It isn't feasible for me to say 'hi, I'm leaving the country and not coming back for eight days, so just hold my calls.' I have to think of the company, and I have to think of what my absence will do to the client list." Angela knew that if she had won a Maddie, she'd want to have him there, or at least she'd want someone by her side, and so she understood what he was asking, she just couldn't believe he was acting with such blatant disregard for her career.  
  
"Maybe you could say 'hi, my husband, from whom I had been separated for almost a year and half, and with whom I am now working towards reconciliation—anyway, he just got a really big award, and to show support of him, and to show commitment to my marriage, I really need to go to Taipei for a week.'" The saccharine sweet smile he offered was enough to make her want to hit him.  
  
"You're kidding? You've got to be. You can't actually think that emotional blackmail will work on me, can you?" When he didn't reply, she stood, tossing the file down on the chair and laughed. "I need to get out of here for a while, and maybe drive around, because right now all I want to do is fight with you, and remind you that you were the one who walked away and disappeared last time. And I might also remind you that you were the one who left me with a child to raise by myself, with so little as a phone call from you. So before we fight any more, I'm going to leave for a bit. Don't wait up."  
  
Slamming the door behind her, Angela fought back her tears until she was in the car and safely out of the driveway. She knew where she was going—she had no doubts that Tony would make time for her, and she needed her best friend.  
  
9***  
  
"I'm so sorry," she said again, wishing she wasn't crying when she showed up at Tony's door. Angela had done her best to stop crying, and as soon as she'd start to calm down, she'd remember how lonely she felt, or how much Michael made her loathe him when he had tried to tell her that she didn't love him enough.  
  
"Don't be," he said, closing the door behind her and ushering her over to the sofa. "What happened? Are you okay?"  
  
Angela nodded, before blowing her nose and trying to wipe at her tears with her other hand.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Michael wants me to go to Taipei," she said in between sobs.  
  
"What? To live?" Tony looked at her in horror, suddenly realizing it might not take very much for her to be completely lost to him.  
  
"Eight days," she wailed, thinking about being in a country where she couldn't even speak the language or watch television in the hotel room.  
  
"Oh," Tony said, not really sure what an appropriate comment would be.  
  
"I know it sounds silly, but it's just the way it all happened. It was terrible. He made me feel awful!" Drying the latest round of tears, Angela sighed.  
  
"What did he say?" Tony could feel anger bubbling in his chest at the mere thought that Michael did this to her and that he didn't seem to care enough to stop her from taking off from the house in tears.  
  
What kind of husband doesn't take care of his wife when she's distraught? More importantly, what kind of husband lets a disagreement get so out of hand that she had to take off and seek refuge from her friends.  
  
Lots of husbands, Tony concluded. But he wouldn't do it, if he were married to someone like Angela. He'd never let things get that out of hand. Just the idea of losing her would be enough to make him concede defeat.  
  
"He wants me to take time off to go to Taipei, because he wants me there to watch him receive an award from the National Geographic Society."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I can't take that kind of time off! Things are finally going well, and I know that Wallace and McQuade would do anything to steal some of my clients...If I take off around the world, how's it going to look?" Angela wonders if she's being silly.  
  
"But if you don't, what's going to happen to you and Michael?" Tony wants to tell her just to stay safe in Connecticut, and not to worry about what Michael thinks, but he's allowing his better judgment to prevail. "If I were receiving some fancy award, I'd want you there beside me, and I think I'd be upset if you weren't available to go."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Wouldn't you want someone to go with you if you won something special—you want to share those things with the ones you love, and you want to have someone there to kick you when you're not sure that it's all really happening." Tony watched her expression fall—that wasn't the answer she wanted.  
  
"I'd want to be there for you," she admitted, wondering if that was a distinction she should make. After all, her husband was actually asking her to go with him to collect an award, and she was debating going, but there was very little doubt in her mind that she would go if it had been Tony asking her.  
  
"Angela, you decided to give your marriage another shot—you decided you wanted Michael back in your life, and with that decision, I guess there's the burden of occasionally goin' half way across the world together." Tony was trying not to sound so harsh, but at the same time, he knew that if she walked away from this trip, Michael would never forgive her.  
  
"Does my career not matter at all?"  
  
"It does matter—but so does his. This is a milestone for him, right? It's important to him, and I think if I were in his position, I'd like nothing more than step off that plane with my beautiful wife." Tony forced a small smile before taking her hand in his. "I know it's really not ideal, but I can kind of understand where he is coming from."  
  
"He thinks I'm a terrible wife," she whispered. "It's like he's blaming all of our problems on me, and I don't think I'm completely to blame."  
  
Tony felt a glimmer of hope when she said that she and Michael were having problems, and simultaneously a pang of guilt—he felt like a scavenger.  
  
"You're not a terrible wife," Tony assured her, being certain of at least that much. "And if you guys are having problems, it's no doubt something that he has some part of too."  
  
"He thinks I'm holding our past against him."  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"Yes, but how can I not? He left me with a son, to raise him by myself, and if it hadn't been for you, Sam and mother, I don't know if we could have made it this far." Angela enjoyed the feeling of his hand on hers—something she thought she'd have to consider later, when she wasn't sitting only a few inches away from him.  
  
"You would have, because you're a fighter, and you are so much stronger than you'd ever imagine." Tony squeezed her hand in his, wondering if she felt as lost as she seemed.  
  
"I'm not as strong as everyone seems to think," she countered, closing her eyes and wishing she could will the tears from falling again.  
  
"You're stronger," Tony said softly, his eyes falling gently on her face, almost to relay his feelings for her. "And I have no doubt that whatever you decide to do will be what's right for you—you're not going to make any decisions because of what I say, or what anyone else says. You're too good for that."  
  
There was almost a magnetic force, pulling her towards him. It was a slow and silent journey, that seemed to go on for miles, but somehow they managed to cover the inches between them before stopping themselves, almost nose to nose.  
  
Angela moved in, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was hardly platonic, as she moved her body to cover his, and suddenly, without thought, she was laying on top of Tony on the couch. His hands traveled over her back, resting on the small of her back, and holding her body down towards his, as their tongues dueled for supremacy.  
  
When Angela emitted a tiny moan, Tony suddenly became much more coherent than he had been for minutes.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh," he said quietly, pulling his lips from hers, and using his thumbs to wipe away the few remaining tears. "We can't do this," he almost whispered, wanting to kick himself for pulling away from her—there wasn't anything he had wanted more in the world than to be with Angela, but this wasn't the way to do it.  
  
Her body was still pressing down on his, contouring to Tony's shape, and enjoying the sensation of his erection pressing against her thigh.  
  
That's when it hit her—the realization that she was willing to consecrate the vows she made to Michael—it made her realize what she was doing to her friend.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to crawl off of him without making the situation any more uncomfortable.  
  
"Don't be," he said soothingly, secretly missing the contact as her body left his.  
  
"I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I swear." Straightening her clothes and running her fingers through her hair, Angela tried to gain some composure.  
  
"It's not...that's not what happened, at all." Tony wanted to console her, but there was no way he wanted to cross any lines that were left drawn.  
  
"I..." Angela chewed on her lower lip. "I should go," she said finally.  
  
"You don't have to," Tony said feebly. "I mean, you can stay and we can talk some more, or if you want, you can spend the night."  
  
"Uh, I don't know if that's such a good idea," Angela said, blushing at the thought.  
  
"I mean, in a guest room."  
  
"Oh. I meant Taipei," she said finally.  
  
"Oh. That's probably a good idea," Tony offered.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Yeah," he said again, suddenly very aware of all the feelings he'd been harbouring for Angela, and wondering the depth of them. Their presence wasn't as much a surprise as their intensity.  
  
"I should go home now. Michael's probably worried sick, and I don't want him to go to bed angry," Angela said calmly. "Thank you for everything."  
  
It was as if nothing had happened.  
  
"Anytime—you're my best friend." He wanted to hug her but after the time they had spent together, it seemed like an almost inappropriate thing to do.  
  
"Good night," she said, as she stood and left the room, mumbling something about finding her own way out.  
  
"Good night, Angela," Tony whispered after her, certain she was gone.  
  
10***  
  
As Monday drew nearer, Tony wondered if they would still be having lunch together, or if Angela was still upset about what had happened.  
  
Even he doubted how easily they could get together and have lunch, without either acting on those feelings, or being uncomfortable with each other.  
  
Tony knew that he wanted to tell Angela about how that night made him feel—he wanted to tell her that he had wanted to do that since the first moment he had met her, and that he was glad she did it, because know he's certain she felt the same way.  
  
Then again, Tony kept reminding himself that she was married to Michael Bower, the father of her son, and it was very probable that Angela had no intentions of ending her relationship with good ol' Mikey.  
  
No matter, Tony decided. He was going to go to brunch, and he was going to wait for Angela.  
  
***  
  
The drive home that night from Tony's had been gut wrenching. There were numerous times that Angela almost turned around and told him that she didn't care about the crumbs of her marriage that were left, but that she wanted him in her life.  
  
Half way back to the house she decided that she owed it to Michael to go to Taipei and watch him receive his award, even if it meant kicking some people into gear at work—her staff was competent enough to hold down the fort. There were some things that she had to learn how to do, and putting her family first was top priority.  
  
As for the 'incident' on the couch with Tony, every time Angela thought of it, she blushed furiously, remembering how happy she was to have been in his arms and on top of his body.  
  
She had dreamed about it, since he showed up on her door step, and she had to admit that there were very few things about Tony that she didn't love but whether or not it was love in terms of the greater scheme of things, or just as a friend, she was still unwilling to make the distinction.  
  
When Angela walked into the living room, she was disappointed to see that Michael wasn't there, and that he hadn't waited up for her. Tony would have.  
  
Throwing her coat on the stand and balancing her purse on the desk, she kicked off her shoes and made the ascent up the stairs. She'd tell Michael her news—she would go with him to Taipei—and then she'd get some rest, hopefully sleeping through the night, for the first time in ages.  
  
Shedding her clothes and pulling the nightgown over her head, she crawled into bed, and pulled the duvet up over her.  
  
"I'm going to Taipei," she told Michael, before turning out the light. His back had been turned to her, but she felt relatively certain he was not asleep.  
  
Michael didn't say anything, and Angela almost appreciated that, as she closed her eyes and began to think about the day's events. There were some things she needed to consider, and perhaps being in Taipei for a week would give her the space she needed to do some soul-searching.  
  
11***  
  
Tony arrived early at the restaurant, and paced back and forth. He really wanted to tell her that it was all his fault—that he should have stopped her sooner—but his heart was telling him that he hadn't wanted it to stop at all.  
  
Finally building up the courage to go inside, he sat at their regular table and wondered if Angela would show up at all. It was very possible that she would not go to lunch, for fear of making things more awkward, and the anxiety building in his chest was telling him that maybe it would have been best had he not shown up either.  
  
"Hey," she greeted, as she slid in to her seat.  
  
"Hey back," Tony smiled, happy she took the chance and came.  
  
"You want your usual? My treat today—I think we should make today worth two weeks."  
  
He looked at her, dumbfounded.  
  
"I'm going to Taipei on Saturday, so next week I won't be here," she pointed out.  
  
"Oh." Tony thought it over for a moment. She had kissed him, and decided that she wanted to fight for her marriage...was there a correlation or was this all merely happenstance? "Michael's very happy, I bet."  
  
"Yeah, he's planning some adventures for us while we're there—I've never been to Taiwan."  
  
He felt like saying 'I know' but that would be too forward and too much like saying 'I know you better than you would ever imagine.' "That sounds like fun," he forced himself to say, trying to sound like he would be happy for her.  
  
"Yeah," she agreed.  
  
"So, the regular?"  
  
"Yeah, the regular," Tony said, realizing that it wasn't just his order for their Monday morning meetings that were stuck in a rut, but his life as well.  
  
***  
  
Standing in front of the agency's imposing granite looking building, Tony felt very small. And it was the first time he'd noticed it.  
  
He'd brought Angela to this building dozens of times and never before had he felt so tiny.  
  
"So, it will be a couple of weeks then," Tony said quietly, hoping that their lunch today wouldn't be their last. Despite its awkward silences and occasionally forced conversation, there was the comfort in the knowledge that they were still sitting near each other, and were available to the other.  
  
"Yeah, but I'll give you a call when I get home, and we'll make plans. I'll have pictures to show you, and I'm sure Jonathon will want to send back a little something for you guys—I'll try to make sure there aren't any livestock coming back with us." Angela smiled.  
  
"Thanks, Sam might freak if it's something creepy crawly," he observed, feeling instantly stupid for the remark.  
  
"I might too," Angela added. She had debated giving him her business card, with all of the information about where she'd be staying in Taiwan. She wanted him to know how to get a hold of her, and she had hoped that maybe he'd call her once during the week, just to check on her sanity. A part of her was saying that she shouldn't commit any part of her self to Tony, and the other part was saying that he's the only man she wanted to give any piece of herself to.  
  
"I, uh," he was about to ask for her information in Taipei, just so he could at least feel that little bit closer to her, but the realization that she was going there with her husband seemed enough to stop him from making the request.  
  
"Here," Angela said, finally thrusting the card into his hand. "I thought that maybe you might check up on Mother for me sometime while I'm gone—make sure the house is still standing?"  
  
"Yeah," Tony smiled. "I'd be honoured." Moving in to give her a hug, Tony decided to just seize the moment and envelop Angela in his arms. "Take care of yourself," he told her, as he gently squeezed her.  
  
Angela inhaled his cologne and wished she could just stay there, in his arms. Instead, she was decisive and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, and allowed her lips to drag across his only for a second before pulling away.  
  
"I will," she said softly, wishing she could lean in for more.  
  
"You better," Tony replied, feeling like a moron but completely unsure of what could be said otherwise.  
  
"Bye," she said, walking up the stairs and into the crowd of people.  
  
It was only thirty seconds, but it felt like a lifetime, and Tony felt it all walking away.  
  
12***  
  
"Good morning," Angela grumbled into the phone. Her jet lag had her barely able to move, she was so tired. Mostly, she decided, she was more than a little depressed at the notion of being stuck in a foreign country, away from work and in the hotel room, while her husband and her son went out and explored the local sights.  
  
"Evenin'," Tony chirped over the line, more than a little worried about the way Angela sounded. She was exhausted, he determined, and it was only the first day.  
  
"Tony?"  
  
"Who else would it be? Do you know many other adorable, Italian, ex- housekeepers?"  
  
"No, just you," she admitted. "What time is it there?"  
  
"It's just after ten pm."  
  
"So it's? What time is it here?" She felt totally disoriented.  
  
"It's ten minutes past eleven, in the morning," he said, having worked it out in his head sometime earlier in the week, after she had told him she planned on going.  
  
There was a knocking on Angela's hotel suite door.  
  
"Um, someone's here, I should probably get that," Angela said, feeling the fuzz beginning to clear from her head.  
  
"I'll just wait for you, if you don't mind?" Tony had a plan—a very well formulated plan, he thought—and if she hung up on him, that would send it all to hell.  
  
"U-kay," Angela seemed reluctant, if only because she didn't know who was on the other side of the door. "One second."  
  
"Room service," a young man in a hotel uniform appeared, pushing a large cart. "Breakfast service."  
  
"I didn't order any room service," Angela said, feeling completely discombobulated.  
  
"Um, madam, it was ordered by your husband I think—Tony?" He looked over the order, making sure he got the name right. "Yes, ma'am, it was placed by Mr. Tony forty minutes ago."  
  
Angela felt her heart do a flip. "Oh."  
  
"May I bring it in?"  
  
"Yes, certainly," she said, gesturing into the suite. Rushing back to the phone, she picked up the receiver. "You ordered brunch for me?"  
  
"I figured that just because you're on the other side of the world doesn't mean that we can't keep up our Monday ritual." Tony laughed. "Besides, it's giving me an opportunity to take advantage of the unlimited long distance calling I get with my job."  
  
Angela laughed. "I doubt she meant 'please, call your ex-boss in Taiwan'."  
  
"Yeah, well, semantics."  
  
"You ordered the waffles with fruit!" Looking over the cart, she was pleasantly surprised by the selection—all of her favourites, and of course the traditional fare that she would have wanted, had she been in New York.  
  
"And extra whipped cream—I figured you might as well be spoiled a bit." Tony grinned, pleased that she didn't see this as too much for a friend to do.  
  
"Aw, thank you so much," Angela said, genuinely impressed by the gesture.  
  
"Anytime," he said sincerely.  
  
"What's it like back home?"  
  
"It's a great night actually—a perfect starry night, with no clouds to be seen." Tony had spent an unbelievable amount of time looking out the window, waiting to call her. She knew him too well, to know that he would have been out for a walk by now, or at least spent some time out on the porch.  
  
"Sounds wonderful," she admitted, wishing she was sitting there with him, and that they could both look up at the same sky together.  
  
"It's real nice."  
  
There was a moment of calm silence, while Angela began cutting her food. "You're too good to me, you know that right?"  
  
"No such thing as too good for you, and you should know that." Tony had wanted to tell her how much it meant to him that they had shared so many moments together.  
  
Angela felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She wanted to be back in Connecticut and in Tony's arms. But she would never cheat on Michael—if she and Tony were to make an attempt at a relationship, she'd have to leave her husband, and that would be a huge step to make. And it would be horrible timing to walk away from him now, when he was so excited about being given that award.  
  
"Tony?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if Michael hadn't come back when he did?"  
  
"I don't know," he said, wondering where the conversation was going. "I guess I kinda had some ideas of what might happen, but it doesn't matter now, right? He came back."  
  
"I know, but...Don't you think that maybe that doesn't change things as much as we thought it did?" She was fishing, she knew it, but it was worth taking that chance.  
  
"Well, it means that I don't work for you any more, which is a big change. And it means that Sam and I live here instead of on Oakhills Drive." He wanted to explain that it didn't change his feelings, but he didn't know how to word it in such a way that didn't sound like he was pressuring her.  
  
"I know, but do you think it changes other things too?"  
  
"You're still my best friend," Tony admitted.  
  
Angela blushed at the actual admission—she had thought it in the past, and she had wanted to tell him that as well, but there were never the right words to tell him. She never felt completely comfortable expressing that.  
  
"We're lucky," Angela said pensively.  
  
Tony didn't know what to say, except to agree. "I hope that never changes."  
  
"Me too."  
  
There was silence again, while Angela debated what to say next. Finally, she let her guard down and decided to just give voice to what she was thinking. "I want to leave Michael," she said decisively, waiting for his response.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes. I'm not happy, and I'm beginning to think that the big dark cloud that's hanging over my head isn't going to get any smaller." She breathed a deep breath, before continuing. "We don't love each other the way we should, and we're only hurting each other," she admitted.  
  
"How long have you been thinking about this?" Tony was awestruck at the idea of Angela leaving Michael. He never would have anticipated it.  
  
"For a while. Since our last big fight. I'm certain this is what I need to do...Would you be willing to help me find another house, and then move back in—I mean, I'd like for you and Sam to come back. We'll find something in Fairfield, hopefully." She didn't want to seem so forward. In fact, if they were going to explore some kind of relationship, it might even be easier if they weren't living together. That having been considered, not living with Tony seemed like too drastic of an idea. If they explored a relationship and it didn't work out some how, they'd remain friends. Of that, if not much more, Angela was certain.  
  
"Are you sure that's what you'd want? I mean, I don't want you to feel obligated..." He was trying to leave her an out, in case this was all because of the stress she'd been under lately.  
  
"Yes," she said full of certainty. "I feel like you and Sam are as much family as mother and Jonathon. I don't know, maybe that's wrong to say, but..."  
  
"No," he said quickly. "You know...I don't want you to feel like..." How the hell was he going to say this? He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to walk away from her marriage to spend time with him, but a part of him felt like that was too great of an egotistical statement.  
  
"No pressure," Angela provided, as if she could read his mind. "It's been a long time coming."  
  
Tony gathered his thoughts, wondering how Sam would react, as much as how strange it could be to be considered 'the other man'. He had never imagined that for him and Angela. He had never considered Michael as a contender, until he walked back into their lives and turned everything upside down.  
  
Angela was beginning to feel the stress and embarrassment of having asked the question. Tony had yet to say anything, and considering the amount of time he's taken, she was certain the answer wouldn't be what he had hoped it would be.  
  
"Tony?"  
  
"I was just wondering when all this would happen," he said thoughtfully, "so I can give my notice and talk to Sam."  
  
"Oh." She wasn't sure what else to say.  
  
"But just tell me whenever you are ready, and we'll make it work." Tony smiled. She didn't want to lose him, almost as much as he didn't want to lose her.  
  
"Thank you," she smiled. "I really lucked out when mother brought you home," she laughed.  
  
"And to think, you were worried about me bein' a problem."  
  
"Well, lesson learned, you're a good guy." She was about to tell him when she planned to tell Michael—in the weeks following their arrival back in Fairfield—when the door flung open.  
  
"Mom! You should have seen the size of that bug!" Jonathon bounced into the room, his eyes growing wide at the size of the breakfast tray, and the treats that decorated it.  
  
"It was your average size, Jonathon, it was just pregnant," Michael said informatively, before realizing Angela had the phone to her ear.  
  
"Um, I should get going," she said quickly. "Jonathon and Michael just got back, and I want to hear all about their morning adventures."  
  
"I understand," Tony said, trying not to give voice to that twinge of guilt and jealousy he was feeling. "Do you want me to call again? Or should we just talk when you get home?"  
  
"If you'd like to," Angela said, hoping he'd understand her near coded reply, "I'd appreciate that."  
  
"I'll call you later in the week then—take care of yourself."  
  
"You too," Angela said, before hanging up the phone and wishing she had more time, or the privacy to tell him what she was feeling.  
  
"Who was that?"  
  
"Peter, he wanted me to give him some information on my last meeting with Glico." Angela lied smoothly, a fact that would bother her only momentarily when she considered that any lies she told in the next week would be for Michael's benefit. As cruel as it sounded, she didn't want to ruin his trip, and Angela was sure that by telling him she had plans of leaving him...that would hardly go over well. "Any one want some of my breakfast?"  
  
Jonathon's eyes grew large, as his mother passed him a fork and smiled at him. "Chocolate sauce and everything? WOW!"  
  
"I was feeling decadent this morning," Angela laughed, watching him dig into the waffles and the gooey chocolate liquid.  
  
Michael eyed the scene somewhat put aback, having rarely seen Angela go so far out on a regular morning. Coffee and Orange juice were her failsafe, and for once she was ignoring them altogether.  
  
13***  
  
The rest of the week seemed to drag on, and it never ceased to amaze Angela how many photo ops they wanted of their happy little family. She felt like she was a fraud, standing beside Michael, smiling, and holding his hand, or with his arm around her.  
  
But telling him now would only make things worse—it would only make him upset and destroy the opportunity he was supposed to be enjoying. At least, that's what Angela kept telling herself.  
  
She had managed to just sneak away for a quiet walk—an opportunity, she hoped, to do some soul searching and consider what she was going to do once they returned to Fairfield.  
  
"So, how's today going?" Michael had managed to sneak up on her.  
  
"Fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Enjoying the bustle of people all around, and the noises."  
  
"It's great, isn't it?"  
  
"It's so different than Manhattan." She felt instantly stupid for saying that. Of course it was different than Manhattan. How could they be anything but different? They're two cities on opposite sides of the world.  
  
"Do you think you could ever grow to like it here?" He was digging, he knew, but he had to ask.  
  
"I like it plenty fine," Angela said, not really thinking about what he was saying, and how many different connotations it might have.  
  
"Enough to, say, live here?" Michael knew that it wasn't 'sinking' in, and that it would take a moment to realize what being said.  
  
Angela continued walking, thinking and debating the way her life would be once she moved on with her life, and away from Michael. Suddenly, 'live here,' filled her consciousness.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"They offered me a position here—twice the money, and a handful of perks, including a house. What do you think?" His eyes were glimmering.  
  
"I think you've gone absolutely mad. You expect me to move to Taipei?" Angela looked at him in nothing less than shear shock.  
  
"I'm asking you what you think. Everything has been going so well for us lately. We've not been arguing as much, we're thinking about each other's feelings more and that's why I want to talk with you before I say yes to this job."  
  
Angela couldn't believe what she was hearing. He honestly seemed to believe that things were going well between them. Obviously he wasn't feeling as smothered or as caged in as she was.  
  
"So you want to say yes?"  
  
"Of course I do—it would be an excellent opportunity for us, and it would be nice for Jonathon to get to explore a bit, in a place where he can learn another language." Michael had been considering all of the pros of moving to Taipei, and formulating the best way to give them to Angela.  
  
"Or it would be death to my career!" Angela could barely stand to look at her husband, who was too busy weighing the pros for him, but wasn't even considering her feelings.  
  
"Well, you could see what was available in this market—you could find a good job here, I'm sure."  
  
"OH, yes, I can see that conversation now—I'll just march in to the biggest advertising agency, throw down my resume on the desk and say 'hi, I'm here for a job as president—is there a vacancy?' I own my own agency, and it has my name on it, but let me just walk away from it!" She was scathing when she looked in to his eyes, and didn't see much remorse for having made such an asinine proposal.  
  
"Well, it might not be a job as President, but it would be a start, and with your resume, I can't imagine it would take much for you to get a good job." Michael was trying to rationalize. He wasn't willing to walk away from his marriage or his son quite yet.  
  
"A good job hardly compares to the one I have now, which, might I point out, is a great job." Angela was about ready to combust. "I'm my own boss, and I own an agency—an agency I worked very hard for. I can see how I should just accept a lesser position."  
  
"It is a great job but this is an opportunity for all of us to change and grow. Don't you think that we should give it a chance?"  
  
"No," she said with finality. This was the time, obviously. He had made a decision about wanting to work in Taipei, and she had made a decision about wanting to stay in Connecticut.  
  
No questions asked, this was the time to tell him she planned on moving on. "I think this is just the straw the broke the proverbial camel's back," Angela pointed out, and when Michael stared at her with nothing less than a look of confusion and worry, she decided to continue. "You want to work here, well, then, go for it. But Jonathon and I are going home. This proves it, Michael, you're not able to settle down for long periods of time, and you never have been. You've tried, God help us, you've tried, but it's never been successful because that isn't what you want! Why keep torturing yourself when I know and you know that you'll never be happy on Oak Hills Drive?"  
  
"Because I want to be there for you and Jonathon," he said simply, never having expected her to give up on their relationship.  
  
"And that's very noble of you, but you can't be there for us and here for you. Jonathon and I can make it through by ourselves—we've had some practice, and we're good at it. It's only fair that we go our separate ways, sign the divorce papers, and make the most of everything we have available to us." Angela could feel her fists loosing from their tight grip—for a moment she felt like slapping him, but the rational side of Angela pointed why it would be a bad idea. She was causing him enough pain without leaving him with bruises too.  
  
"You've made up your mind," Michael asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
"Yeah, I have." For the first time since Michael walked through the doors of her home, Angela felt an enormous burden lifted from her.  
  
"Are you going to stay for the rest of the week?"  
  
"Do you want me to?" She hadn't planned on telling him before they went home, so this was all new territory for her.  
  
"Maybe not," he said sadly. "If you're here, we'll just be putting on a front." It was clear that Michael was disappointed by Angela's revelation, and that by itself was very difficult for her. She hadn't wanted to see him hurting.  
  
"Do you want Jonathon to stay? He can fly home next week sometime, and that will give you a chance to stay together for a while longer." It was the least she could do, Angela decided. Letting Jonathon stay with Michael would give them a chance to talk, and to decide how they wanted to conduct their relationship, knowing that they would be living on opposite sides of the world.  
  
"That'd be nice," Michael said, his eyes honing in to his shoelaces.  
  
Silently, they walked back to the hotel, and towards telling their son that their marriage was over.  
  
Both Michael and Angela knew that this truly had been their last chance, and although oddly thankful for it in some ways, there was also a swell of relief—they no longer had to pretend that their careers were of lesser importance.  
  
14***  
  
"Ladies and Gentleman, we are now preparing for our final decent into La Guardia airport. Please ensure your seatbelts are securely fastened, all carry-on baggage is stowed, your tray table is up and your seats are in the upright positions. Local time is 2:17 am and we'd like to thank you for flying American Airlines." The flight attendant was much too cheery for Angela's liking. It was after two in the morning and there was no reason she could think of to be cheerful.  
  
Double checking her seatbelt, she slid her feet back into her shoes and played with her hair—the least she could do would be look presentable when she deplaned, even if it was for some random, unknown driver.  
  
Angela sighed—the combination of stress and exhaustion leaving her feeling almost numb.  
  
She had debated calling Tony from Taipei and telling him what had happened but an overwhelming reluctance had told her not to. How would it look to everyone that the same day (or at least, in some vague resemblance of the same day) that she left her husband, she asked Tony to meet her.  
  
She tried telling herself that any request she made of Tony at this point would be as a friend, but still she knew that a part of her wanted more—and she was worried that part might win over. Angela also wondered if she could be a success at relationships—all evidence indicated the contrary and the last thing she wanted to do was screw up whatever she had with Tony.  
  
Her final decision (to not call Tony) was ultimately made when she debated what could happen, if he went to meet her.  
  
Angela was on overload and although she wanted him there to pick her up, and she wanted to tell him exactly how she felt for him, she knew that falling into anything too quickly could be disastrous.  
  
As the wheels touched down on the tarmac, Angela said a silent prayer that she'd know how to make things work between her and Tony, whenever that time would come. She also promised herself that first thing in the morning she would call him, and they would make plans to meet and discuss their lives.  
  
Stepping off the plane, Angela felt more tired than she had ever felt before. She had been awake for what felt like days. Then again, she had been on a plane for twenty hours, and for those twenty hours, she had spent most of it thinking about her life and all of the things that might be changing. No wonder she was exhausted, Angela thought.  
  
Truth be told, it was probably very close to days since she had slept well. The day that she and Michael had their discussion led into an awkward night, with Angela 'falling asleep' in Jonathon's bed with him. Mostly, she sat and thought for most of the time, wondering if she had done everything she could have to make it easier on Jonathon.  
  
The next day had been spent packing and getting ready. She placed some calls back home, to let Mona know that she was coming back early, and to tell her to pull the house back together again. Mona had teased her about trying to hide her boyfriends in the closet, and then noted the hollowness evident in her daughter's voice.  
  
She had caught the flight and boarded the plane, determined to sleep once she got settled, but the combination of turbulence and stress was just too much to let her nod off.  
  
As she deplaned, she wondered if Mona remembered to call the limo to pick her up, and if so, if she had the driver waiting for her at the baggage claim (as she hoped) or at the curb outside the arrivals. No matter, Angela thought. One way or another she'd manage to muster the energy to get her stuff however far she needed.  
  
***  
  
He couldn't believe how nervous he was—after all, when Mona called to tell him about Michael and Angela's impending divorce, the only thing he could think was about how quickly it had come into fruition.  
  
At first he was reluctant to meet her at the airport—of all the things she needed, some space was probably in the top five—but Tony also knew that the overwhelming desire to see her wouldn't fade very much, if at all.  
  
When Tony had finally made the decision to pick Angela up at La Guardia, he then struggled with where to meet her. The gate seemed like a place for a boyfriend to meet a girlfriend, and he didn't want to seem too presumptuous. The baggage claim seemed like a good idea, but then he panicked. What would she think? Would Angela read as much into the gesture as Tony was?  
  
Eventually (and in fact, not until he was pulling into the parking lot outside the terminal) he decided to throw caution to the wind and meet her at the gate—this was a time she needed a friend more so than ever before and Tony was determined to fulfill that need.  
  
Now, looking at his feet, he was standing in front of American Airlines gate 26, wondering what kind of reception he'd get. He'd heard an announcement about the arrival of her flight only about a minute ago, so soon enough he'd know.  
  
15***  
  
Walking through the gate, Angela sighed—she had scanned quickly through the near by area, and hadn't seen anyone with a sign, let alone one that read 'Bower'. No luck, she thought, as she built up the energy to make it to the baggage claim.  
  
Disappointed, but determined to keep moving for fear of falling asleep on her feet, Angela tossed her purse haphazardly over one shoulder and her carry-on bag over the other.  
  
"Jeez, you sure know how to greet a guy," Tony said teasingly. "I stay up all night long so I can be here, and you don't even notice me."  
  
Angela spun on her heal, wondering if she was really so tired that she could be hallucinating but when she saw Tony there, she was unbelievably excited.  
  
"Mona told me you'd be getting in, and I wanted to come pick you up." Tony was questioning how bright of an idea that was. Maybe he was smothering her.  
  
"Thank you," she said softly, feeling uncharacteristically loved.  
  
"Anytime," Tony said with heart felt sincerity, as he took her carry-on bag and slung it over his shoulder. Offering her his arm, he was more than a little pleased when Angela linked hers through his.  
  
"We have lots to discuss," she said as her eyes nervously reached his.  
  
"There's lots of time," Tony assured her. She looked exhausted, and more than a little run down. "For tonight, let's get you home and settled in." His game plan was simple—he'd drive her home, help her in with her bags, and make certain she had everything she needed, and then he'd be on his way. He'd go back to the house tomorrow, he promised, and they'd talk then, if she was up to it.  
  
"I don't deserve you," Angela smiled, before letting him lead her to the baggage claim.  
  
***  
  
Angela fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the headrest in the car. Tony smiled as he looked over at her as she slept, the yellow-white tint of the moonlight streaming over her features.  
  
There was no denying it. Angela was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She had those perfect features that made her seem almost too pretty to be anything more than a piece of eye candy, but she had brains to boot.  
  
He couldn't believe that she was his best friend—this amazing, brilliant, sexy as hell woman was his best friend, but when he was growing up, he wasted so many opportunities to be friends with women. Tony's first instinct was always to sleep with women, not befriend them.  
  
But Angela was proof positive of what he had been missing—not that he expected to meet many other women like her—but she was everything he was raised to believe didn't exist and as much as that bothered him, he knew what his father was saying.  
  
The Italian man was supposed to marry the Italian woman, who would cook and clean, and they would make Italian babies. And when the baby was born, they would make more. It was the cycle of the old neighbourhood—hell, it was the way of the old country.  
  
Angela wasn't that kind of woman—she wasn't someone who wanted to be taken care of financially while her husband slaved away, and she wasn't one who would want to just keep having more and more children. In fact, Tony felt rather certain that she wouldn't want any more children. It would take away from her career, and although that made him feel more than a little disappointment, he also understood. Angela was a powerful executive, and to give that up for nine months of relative discomfort and then to have to... Pushing people around in the board room seemed much more pleasant, although hardly as rewarding.  
  
As he pulled in to 3344 Oakhills drive, he wondered if he had been presumptuous when he asked for three days off. Sam had gone to Brooklyn, and Angela was flying back in, and Tony really wanted to help her get settled as much as possible. Mona had explained over the phone that Michael had asked for his stuff to be shipped back to Taipei, and he knew that meant Angela would have to do it. He wanted to help her get through all of the more difficult parts of the days, and he wanted to show her that she really could stand on her own two feet—even if it meant a little help from a friend. Tony knew that his presence might be undermining her new independence, but at the same time he wondered if maybe he'd be able to forge a stronger bond with her, which was something that he had wanted for quite a while.  
  
Not wanting to wake her, he first took the bags and her purse, hoping she wouldn't mind that he had to riffle to find her house keys, and made his way to the door. If he took all of her things in first and set them in the room, he could come back for her, and get her settled. Tony's last option would be to wake Angela, although he wasn't certain of many ways around that—he'd have to do some serious planning before he came back to the car.  
  
***  
  
It had been an arduous process, but he seemed to have had relative success. Angela only grumbled a bit when he lifted her out of the car and carried her up to her room, and then she emitted a tiny yawn before rolling over in the bed and curling on to her side.  
  
"Night Angela," Tony said, as he pulled the blankets up and gently tucked her in.  
  
When he turned off the light, he pulled the door shut behind him and wondered how much time he might be spending in that house again, and if during the time he would be in Fairfield, he'd finally work up the courage to kiss Angela again—it was something he had been thinking about for what felt like forever.  
  
Old habit led him to his room, and when he opened the door and flipped the switch, Tony was disappointed to see that it had been converted into another office. It looked like, merely from the number of scientific specimens, it would probably have been Michael's work area.  
  
Trying not to be bitter, or even just overly offended, Tony decided to pull the door closed behind him, and forget about it. It wasn't a personal slight on any one's part, but Angela and Michael making the most of the ample space they had. He was her husband, and he wanted a place to work—Tony couldn't begrudge him that, even if he did feel displaced by it.  
  
Pulling blankets from the linen closet, Tony chose his old quilt and made his way down stairs. He'd sleep on the couch tonight, and tomorrow he'd probably go back to Mrs. Wallingford's. There was no sense of him staying and suffocating Angela, he decided.  
  
16***  
  
When the streams of pinkish-blue haze drifted through the windows, Tony rolled onto his side and felt instantly disoriented. He wasn't in his own bed. He wasn't in his own room. Opening his eyes further, he looked around and it almost instantaneously came to him—he was sleeping on Angela's couch.  
  
Looking at his watch, Tony felt more than a little disappointed that he couldn't sleep in any more than ten am. He hadn't gotten to bed until almost six, and although four hours of sleep proved adequate, he would have preferred eight full hours.  
  
Rolling off the couch, Tony took his pants of the floor and put them on hastily, afraid that Angela might already be awake, and wandering around. The last thing he wanted to do was to greet her in her own house, wearing his underwear and nothing else. At least wearing his jeans would constitute dressed. He would put on his shirt later.  
  
Neatly folding his bedding and placing it at the foot of the couch, Tony smiled at being in the house again. It really was like an old friend.  
  
He wanted to find out if Angela was awake yet or not, so he knew if he should start any variety of breakfast, but he wasn't sure how to go about that. At first Tony thought he'd just go up to her room and sneak a peak in her door, but that seemed like he'd be pushing some limit. Her room was her private space, and he had already invaded it once to take her to bed, but to 'pop' in seemed to be the more blatant of the two offenses.  
  
Deciding to ready as much as he could (so that when she did wake up food would be ready) Tony made his way into the kitchen and began to sort through what was available to be cooked.  
  
**  
  
Reaching across the bed, Angela wasn't quite certain what she hoped to find, but she knew that when she didn't feel anything, she had cause to feel somewhat disappointed.  
  
She remembered the flight home the night before, and she remembered how Tony surprised her by picking her up, but she couldn't seem to piece together how she got into her house, or where Tony went.  
  
It was merely wishful thinking on her part, she knew, that she'd wake up beside Tony, but she wanted him to be near to him, and what better way than to be beside her when she opened her eyes for the first time of the day.  
  
Moving on to her back, Angela looked to the nightstand for the clock, and when she realized that it was twenty minutes past two in the afternoon she silently reprimanded herself. If Tony had stayed the night, he would have been long gone by now—she would have missed her opportunity to thank him and spend some time alone with him.  
  
As she got out of bed, she considered calling him and talking to him for a few minutes before she started to settle in to her 'new' life. There were a billion things to be arranged, and maybe more than one or two things to be considered.  
  
Her divorce papers would be signed by early in the next week, and she would be in the process of dividing possessions between her husband and her self. Angela had to consider Jonathon as well—she was trying to figure out how much time she could give Michael for visitation without feeling too withdrawn from her son.  
  
The phone call would wait, she decided. First thing first, she had to get down stairs and grab some coffee. The flight back had exhausted her more than she could ever have imagined, and the emotional rollercoaster that she was currently riding was just enough to push her beyond sanity.  
  
Grabbing her pink robe from the top of her suitcase, Angela slid on her slippers and made her way down to the kitchen. There seemed to be so many changes in her life right now, and they all seemed so insurmountable.  
  
***  
  
As Angela walked through the living room, she could have sworn she heard the distinctive sound of someone whistling, and it sounded like a remarkably familiar tune. Shaking it off, Angela assumed she had just been experiencing a moment of wishful thinking.  
  
There had been no sign that anyone would be there, so why act so foolish and set herself up for disappointment.  
  
Pushing open the door, Angela was pleasantly surprised to see Tony sitting at the table, cup of coffee in his hand, reading the newspaper.  
  
"Good morning," she smiled, feeling a rush of emotions—he had stayed, despite having lost an entire day waiting for her to wake up.  
  
"Mornin'," Tony said, getting up and pouring a second cup of coffee for her, and rounding the table to get some orange juice as well. "You up for some food?"  
  
Angela inwardly grinned. He was taking care of her again, just like he always had. "I think I might be up for something to eat, yes."  
  
As he went about finishing the preparation for breakfast, Angela settled into her seat and wondered if she really deserved all of his attention.  
  
17***  
  
Breakfast had gone well, considering the nervous tension between Tony and Angela. The conversation had lapsed periodically, and from time to time one of them would draw a blank on something useful or appropriate to say, but it was somehow endearing.  
  
When Angela told Tony about what happened in Taipei—how Michael had wanted her to move there, permanently, and build a life there—he marveled at Angela's obvious strength. That was hardly an easy confrontation to have, and being thousands of miles from home didn't help.  
  
Tony for the most part tried to listen to what had happened—what had changed between three months ago and now—and when they got to the part about their Monday morning brunch meetings, he enjoyed watching her blush.  
  
"I've really looked forward to 'em," Tony said sweetly, as he poured himself another cup of coffee.  
  
"So have I," Angela admitted. "I really appreciated you ordering brunch for me when I was in Taipei. It was a good reminder that I had a friend who cared, and that I wasn't so far away that you had forgotten about me." She tried to laugh, and pretend that she was less serious than she was, but there was no way around it—for a few moments she had been concerned that Tony might forget about her.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, you should know by now that you aren't forgettable. There's no way any one could ever forget about you—no matter how far away you went."  
  
There was a moment of comfortable silence, while Tony considered what to say next.  
  
"I don't plan on going anywhere like that again. I mean, not for a long period of time," she clarified.  
  
"I'm glad you came back," Tony assured her. "Sam and I missed you."  
  
Angela grinned, impressed by his honesty. "I missed you guys too...Speaking of Sam, where is she?"  
  
"Mrs. R. asked her to go and do some fundraising for the neighborhood. And Sam wanted to spend some time with her friend Charlie—those two were holy terrors. Mrs. R. has her hands full for a few days."  
  
"I can only imagine." Angela was trying to phrase her next question carefully, as to not imply too much. "When are you going back to work?"  
  
Tony debated his answer, wondering when he should go back. "Well, I cleared a few days with Mrs. Wallingford. I don't have to go back until Monday, but I can go back whenever before that."  
  
"So when might you be planning on going back?"  
  
"Monday?" He was hesitant in his answer, but he didn't want to seem more self-assured than he was. Hell, he only had shards of confidence left.  
  
"Do you have any plans for the next day and a half?" Angela was torn between wanting to ask him to stay and help, and letting him go and do whatever it was he had been planning to do.  
  
"Well," here it was, crunch time. "I thought I'd stay and help you get settled. Maybe go buy some groceries, and get things organized around here for you." He watched her expression, trying to read how she was responding.  
  
"I'd like that," Angela said, as she tried to contain her happiness.  
  
"Yeah, me too," he replied, instantly feeling stupid.  
  
**  
  
Saturday seemed to fly by, with a hasty trip to the grocery store, the florist, and the liquor store. He managed to get everything he needed in one trip out, and then make it back in time to prepare dinner.  
  
Angela was still unpacking her bag and trying to pull Michael's clothes out of the drawers when he got back.  
  
She could hear him whistling down stairs and then she heard the soft strains of the local oldies station begin to play, and Angela couldn't help but smile.  
  
This, she decided, was the kind of life she had been looking for...well, minus the 'sorting through soon-to-be ex husband's things'.  
  
Laughing to herself, she emptied another drawer of Michael's clothes on to the bed and began to fold them into small bundles. She wanted to use as few boxes as possible, and have as few reminders around the house.  
  
"I see you left the worm in Taipei! Good call," Mona made her presence known before she flopped haphazardly on the bed, pushing aside the clothes that were in her way.  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"I know, you missed me. I missed you too, and now that you're Michael free...I didn't think it was possible, but I love you more." Mona beamed, so happy to see that her daughter had finally taken her advice and said goodbye to her husband.  
  
"That's loving, and very considerate of my feelings Mother. I really appreciate your unwavering love and support." Angela tried to be angry at her, but she understood her mother's rationale.  
  
"That's my job." Waiting a beat, Mona continued. "Speaking of jobs, I saw a hunky Italian man in tight jeans in the kitchen. Dare I ask?" Wiggling her eyebrows in typical Mona fashion, Angela couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"He picked me up from the airport, as you already know. And he's helping me get things settled around here. No big deal, no juicy story to be told."  
  
"I beg to differ," Mona countered, remembering how concerned Tony was for Angela's well being the night that she called him to tell him what was happening.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I know how you feel about him—I know you've been taking long leisurely lunches with him, and I'm pretty sure you've imagined him naked." Mona winked, noting her daughter's increasing blush, and when Angela didn't instantly dispute what she said, she knew she was right.  
  
"How...how did you know about our lunches?"  
  
"A mother just knows," Mona teased, but when Angela's look turned from one of shock to one of horror, she realized that she'd have to tell her daughter the truth. "I had your secretary keep tabs on you—I was worried about what your relationship with Michael might be doing to you, and I wanted to know if anything strange was going on. When you started taking weekly 'long lunches' I knew."  
  
Angela sighed. She had thought that she'd covered her tracks well, but obviously her attempts at discretion had fallen short—she hadn't factored in the work possibilities. "I've not imagined him naked," Angela lied, wishing she could be more convincing in her argument.  
  
"Sure, and I've never slept with a politician." Sitting up, Mona smiled wryly at her daughter, wondering just how far the relationship had gone between Tony and Angela.  
  
"I don't want to know," Angela said, before sitting down on the bed beside her mother. "I don't know—how does Tony feel about me? I mean, how does he really feel?"  
  
"I'd imagine you'd have to talk to him, but considering he stayed up all night to get you, took time off work, and sent his daughter to Brooklyn for three days—which meant she missed a day of school—I'd imagine you mean a lot to him."  
  
"How can I be certain that it's not just because we're such good friends? I mean, I want to make the next move but I'm torn. If it's going to make things awkward between us, it isn't worth it." Angela tossed some of Michael's things messily into the box.  
  
"Kiss him," Mona said bluntly. "Ever heard that song 'It's in his kiss?' 'Cause it is."  
  
"I have," Angela mumbled.  
  
Mona's eyes grew wide. "You've kissed Tony?" When the younger woman just nodded, Mona grabbed her arm. "When? Our Tony?"  
  
"The night Michael told me we were going to Taipei." Her voice was almost indignant, but she felt better haven given voice to what she felt was her only indiscretion.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And he stopped us. I mean, I was there, laying on top of him, and we were..."  
  
"Go on," Mona said eagerly.  
  
There was something about sharing intimate details of her relationship with Tony that seemed too strange for words, but Angela felt like she finally had a sounding board and should take advantage of it. "We were almost, sort of...making out. But not really making out per se, but ... making out."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"He stopped us...me. He wanted to explain but then I remembered that I was married, and he was my housekeeper before, and was my best friend...It was very weird afterwards. I thought maybe I'd lost him."  
  
There was a pensive silence as Mona considered what she could say to her daughter.  
  
"Kiss him, again, when you're ready to, and see what happens. I'm sure that now things will be less complicated." It seemed like good advice, Mona decided. It was hardly what she might call a great seduction, but it was a step in the right direction.  
  
"Just walk up to him and kiss him. No talking, no thought, and no warning?" Angela was skeptical, to say the least, but even she had to admit that thinking too much could be considered one of her greatest flaws.  
  
"No thought, no warning. Just look at him, and decide to do it. If you can kiss him like that, then there's no stopping you." Stroking Angela's hair, Mona turned suddenly serious. "You really do like Tony a lot, and he makes you so happy. Why shouldn't you enjoy whatever there could be between you?"  
  
"I'm still not divorced?"  
  
"You will be, and your heart hasn't been with Michael for a very long time."  
  
As Mona left the room, she looked back on her daughter who was definitely at a crossroads in her life. For the first time ever, Angela had to make a decision that required absolutely no logical thought—just emotion—and Mona was unconvinced that she was able to function without logical thought.  
  
18***  
  
Angela had paced through her bedroom for what felt like forever before forming a semblance of a game plan.  
  
She couldn't just walk up to Tony and kiss him—that seemed like too dangerous an endeavor. No matter what, Angela had decided, she wasn't going to lose Tony as her friend.  
  
Her game plan was simple. After dinner, before they started the movies, she'd ask him about that night at Mrs. Wallingford's—she'd mention that it was quite the night, and see what he had to say...But her courage was lacking—her motivation to speak to him, although great, was pacified by her fears.  
  
"Just do it," she told herself, wishing she was more like her mother. Mona would never have an issue or even a second thought about telling a man how she felt. "Worst case scenario, you brush off the subject, and move on, it's not the end of the world."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Angela checked her image in the mirror one last time and decided to go for it.  
  
**  
  
"Dinner was, as always fantastic," Angela said as she helped Tony clear the table.  
  
"Thanks," he smiled, glad she liked his newest dish. He'd learned some tricks and tips while with Mrs. Wallingford, and now was more than happy to share them with Angela.  
  
Placing all of the dishes in the dishwasher, and trying to sort through the pots and pans, Tony wondered if he had enough nerve to address any of the feelings he was experiencing. It wasn't easy to think of ways to say that he thought about her all the time, nor was it easy to tell her that he'd been harbouring what could only be described as a crush.  
  
"I'll finish these later," he said decisively, as he dried his hands on the dish towel. He couldn't fathom a good reason to spend time with dishes instead of Angela.  
  
"I can help," she offered, eager to spend more time with Tony.  
  
"Nah, we have some movies to watch. And besides, dishes are best left soaked, right?" Grinning, he grabbed the bottle of wine from the table and carried it with him. "Do you want to grab the glasses?"  
  
Following quickly in tow, Angela grabbed the glasses and joined him in the living room. "Before we, uh, start...start the movie," Angela said, trying to find her voice, "I'd like to talk to you about something."  
  
Tony looked at her, obviously confused and more than a little concerned—those times when Angela was less than articulate usually meant serious debate or conversation.  
  
"Ahkay," Tony agreed, wondering what he was getting himself into.  
  
"That night...at Mrs. Wallingford's..."  
  
Tony's heart sank. This conversation could only go really well, or really badly, and his comfort with the middle ground left him feeling vaguely naked.  
  
"When I kissed you...Did you kiss me back?" The question, in retrospect sounded stupid—juvenile even—but she couldn't think of another way to phrase it.  
  
Tony thought about it for a moment, before his answer. "I, uh, I did. I kissed you back."  
  
"Did you like it?" She asked before her brain had a chance to process what she was asking, and how impossible of a question that might be for him to answer.  
  
"Of course I liked it," Tony said too eagerly, before backing off. "You are a beautiful, sexy woman, who is not only incredibly smart but incredibly loving and passionate. How could any man not enjoy that?"  
  
Her mind spun around the implications, wondering if it was an 'I liked having a blond attack me and kiss me' kind of answer, or if it was an 'I liked having you kiss me'.  
  
Leaning in, Angela decided to take the plunge and kiss him. He had liked it the first time, and she could only hope that he'd like it again.  
  
As she leaned in, Tony's hands pressed against her shoulders. "You don't have to do this," he said, feeling stupid suddenly.  
  
She hadn't expected that—she hadn't expected him to stop her. "Why would I feel like I had to?"  
  
"I don't know, but if you do, you don't. That's all I'm saying." He was trying to read her eyes—trying to decipher whatever it was she was trying to tell him.  
  
"And if I want to?"  
  
This time Tony took that as his answer, contented that whatever Angela's reasons, they were not out of obligation or desperation, but hopefully out of desire. Leaning in the last few inches, he allowed his hands to travel down her arms and rest on her hips as he gently pressed his lips against hers.  
  
Angela could feel her heart nearly beating out of her chest as he kissed her breathless—it was like the most painfully slow kiss that lasted forever. Her hands instinctively found their way to the nape of his neck, and she leaned into him, hoping that this time he wouldn't break their contact.  
  
They reclined against the sofa, this time allowing Tony to straddle Angela's hips and brush her hair out of her face.  
  
He couldn't believe--looking down on her, having just kissed her so intensely--it was all real. He never would have imagined it to be a possibility—that she would even vaguely be interested in his advances, and now she was staring up at him, her hands trailing over his lower back.  
  
"That's a pretty good answer," Angela said, still nearly breathless.  
  
Tony smiled, as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I try," he said again, before pressing his body more fully to hers, careful not to let his weight crush her.  
  
It was the sensation of her body beneath his that evoked an entirely new emotion in Tony. For the first time, he let him self wonder if the things he was feeling for Angela were deeper than perhaps lust, a crush or even admiration. It had been such a long time since he had wondered about feelings he was having for a woman.  
  
Some how, it had always been easier to crack it up to having fun, but with Angela, it was different. He didn't want to have fun—he wanted something entirely different.  
  
"You do well," she whispered, as she leaned into another kiss, this time letting her hands guide themselves under his shirt, and exploring their way around his muscular body.  
  
Tony could feel his knees becoming weak at her touch, and wondered if he had what it would take to keep from falling on top of her in the next few moments, or if they needed to reposition themselves somehow.  
  
"I don't want..." he tried to say something, but her lips captured his again nearly as quickly as he started to speak.  
  
"Are you uncomfortable? We could go upstairs?" It was an automatic reaction, as his groin lowered against hers, to push up against him. The feeling of his erection pressing against her made her wonder if they'd make it to the room, or if they'd end up on the floor, their bodies crumpled in a heap.  
  
"I'm just wondering if, uh, we should shift, or trade spots," Tony volunteered, wondering if it was really a wise idea to go upstairs—he didn't want to push her too far too soon.  
  
Angela grinned, her eyes relaying exactly what she thought as she wrapped her legs around his waist and waited for him to shift them. When Tony did finally settle on his back, he questioned how long they could keep going like this, but when Angela's lips and found their way to the bottom of his shirt hem, he knew he couldn't think logically for much longer.  
  
"Angela," he managed, through heavy breaths.  
  
"Mmhmm," she asked, sliding her way up his body.  
  
"Do you think we, uh, maybe, should...you know, cool it?" Tony hoped he wasn't destroying anything between them, but he really didn't want it to be some frantic night of lovemaking, only for Angela to have regrets in the morning. It only then hit him that what he was considering was just that—lovemaking and not just sex or carnal fulfillment.  
  
"Should we?" Angela asked, suddenly more aware of how aggressive she had been, and how uncharacteristically she had been behaving. But being there with Tony was like the embodiment of so many of her fantasies, and the feelings she had for Tony were undeniably strong.  
  
"I don't want you to have any regrets tomorrow," Tony said, caressing her face with his hand, and hoping she didn't misinterpret what he was saying. "I want our first time together to be...like you deserve it to be," he finished, hoping it didn't sound too gooey.  
  
"If we don't go upstairs, do you mind if we stay here together tonight?" When he didn't respond right away, Angela clarified what she meant. "Do you mind holding me tonight?"  
  
Tony looked at her sincerely, hoping that his actions, words and expression could relay just how deeply he felt for her. "I'd love to," he said pressing a kiss to her temple and wrapping his arms around her back.  
  
It would be his first time just sleeping with a woman since Marie died, and yet the entire act seemed more intimate than any night he had spent having sex with any one.  
  
"I'm really lucky to have you," Angela whispered, listening to his heart beat and hoping that eventually they'd get to finish something they started.  
  
"I'm luckier," he said, as he closed his eyes and evaluated the new feelings bubbling inside of him.  
  
19***  
  
Morning came too quickly, Tony decided, as he lay underneath Angela, inhaling her sweet scent of perfume and reveling in the feeling of her body against his.  
  
He had been awake most of the night, but not because he couldn't sleep but because he wanted to think—there were so many things he needed to make decisions on and they all seemed time sensitive. For once there were a million things racing through his mind and they all demanded immediate attention.  
  
"I like this spot," Angela mumbled absently against Tony's neck, as she began to wake up.  
  
"I like you being here," Tony said seriously. "And I like the way you curl into me."  
  
Angela fought a giggle, realizing she felt like a giddy school girl. "We'll do it more often," Angela provided.  
  
Tony could feel her smile across his chest, and amused by the feeling, he absently stroked her hair and placed a kiss on top of her head. "We have things to discuss, and maybe a few plans to make."  
  
Shifting her weight and sitting up, she straddled Tony's hips and smiled. "Let's talk then."  
  
His hands taking hers in his, Tony decided that it was all or nothing—and nothing seemed like too much of a cop out. Pulling her nearer to him, he managed to position them both sitting up right, Angela's legs wrapped around his hips.  
  
"I really enjoyed yesterday. And last night."  
  
Angela's heart fluttered. "I did too."  
  
"And I really like being with you," Tony said, hoping he didn't sound as lame as he thought.  
  
"Get to the point," Angela teased.  
  
"I think I fell in love with you," he managed, "but it scares me because you just left your husband, and I don't want to pressure you into another relationship now...and I couldn't handle being near to you and not being able to kiss you—there are just so many things I'm feeling right now."  
  
She didn't mean to seem so awe struck. When Tony said they needed to talk, she had anticipated the basic talk 'where do we go from here' and she was only prepared to offer a 'let's see'. This—all of this—was new and uncharted territory. She had never had a man confess his love for her—even Michael had waited until they had sex, and he had said 'of course I love you'. This was an unsolicited, totally honest and pure in intent, confession of love.  
  
"Say it again?" Angela nearly whispered. She was torn between feeling ashamed for asking him to repeat, and excited that he had said it the first time without being asked.  
  
"I've fallen in love with you," Tony said, trying to read what was happening between them.  
  
Leaning in, Angela pressed a kiss to his lips and finally couldn't contain it any more—all of the passion and emotion she had kept caged inside poured out of her and into that kiss. "I love you too, Tony Micelli, and I don't want you to go anywhere—ever."  
  
Tony smiled, feeling as though things might finally be getting on track for them.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," Tony assured her. "At least, not without you," he said sweetly. "Except maybe to the kitchen to make us food."  
  
"Sustenance is good," Angela agreed, stealing another kiss.  
  
Sliding on to the couch, Angela smiled as he got up, stretched, and made his way to the kitchen.  
  
***  
  
"Wait a moment, wait a moment," Tony sang as he nearly danced through the kitchen. He shouldn't be acting like such a highschool boy, but at the same time, he felt like there was finally something in his life that would be his own—a relationship with Angela was something that he could nurture.  
  
Cracking an egg into a bowl, Tony happily whisked the yolks, thinking about all of the nice things he'd like to do for her and all of the romantic gestures he'd been saving for just the right woman.  
  
The list was long but there was some degree of determination that would force him to follow through—Angela deserved every possible treat he could give her.  
  
He poured the eggs into a skillet, carefully springing into action when the edges turned white.  
  
"Some serious thinking in here," Angela said as she made her way over to the stove.  
  
"Concentrating on not breaking the omelet," Tony smiled, before turning into her and kissing her.  
  
"This grabbing and kissing thing—I might get very used to it," Angela said, as she moved in closer for another kiss.  
  
"I hope so, because I don't intend to stop." Turning his attention back to the omelet again, Tony grinned. He wasn't the only one addicted.  
  
The ringing of the door bell startled them. "I should get that," Angela said, curious as to who it could be.  
  
Tony smiled, whistling happily. "I'll be done in a minute, do you want me to bring food in the living room, or do you want to eat in here?"  
  
"In here," Angela said, before she mischievously turned back. "I'll get rid of who ever it is."  
  
***  
  
Opening the door, Angela stood back in awe.  
  
"Michael?" Of all the people she expected to see at the door, her soon-to- be-ex wasn't one of them.  
  
"Angela, we have to talk—I don't care about staying in Taipei if you won't stay too!" Closing the door behind him, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her fiercely.  
  
"Hey, Ang," Tony said, walking through the kitchen door, only to see her in a long and rather impassioned embrace, and how neither had pulled away when he announced his arrival. He watched for a moment, and then before his urge to kill Michael consumed him (and won over his better angels) Tony walked back into the kitchen, picked up his wallet and keys and left.  
  
20***  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Yeah sweetheart?" Sam was bounding around the room, full of energy and excitement.  
  
"Angela's birthday is next week. Can we go over and surprise her?" Sam grinned widely. It had been months since she had seen Angela and she couldn't imagine a better excuse to go over to Oak Hills Drive than to visit for her birthday.  
  
"If you want to go, I can have Gantley take you," he offered genuinely. Tony had not had any contact with Angela since that June morning they had spent on the couch—he hadn't even had a telephone conversation with her. There weren't any words he could think of to say, and he wasn't certain that if he did speak with her, he'd be able to contain the loathing he felt for Michael.  
  
"Why can't *you* take me?" Sam whined—that almost always won over her father.  
  
"Because I'm very busy around here right now—we're preparing the grounds for winter, and we're trying to pull things together—I can't just disappear and leave it to the staff to figure out." The last thing he wanted was to see Angela, and relive all of the emotions he had be been fighting to repress for the past six months almost.  
  
"You don't have to work all day, every day."  
  
"For now, I do," he said, resigned not to further this conversation.  
  
"Fine, I'll ask Gantley," Sam said, frustrated that her father could be so detached from someone she loved so much.  
  
**  
  
"Jonathon, sweetheart, have you found your tie?"  
  
"No—I don't want to go to some fancy restaurant. I hate sitting there and everyone treats me like a kid."  
  
"I know, honey, but everyone is going for my birthday, and I want my favourite little man there," Angela said, as she finished fussing with her hair. "Here, let me straighten this for you," she rolled his sleeve up one—she still hadn't figured out how to hem worth a damn. Eventually, she would need to get a new housekeeper.  
  
When the doorbell rang, Angela straightened Jonathon's hair and smiled. "You look so cute."  
  
Jonathon nearly gagged—what a gross thought: looking cute?  
  
"Sam!" Angela felt her heart drop at the sight of the young girl in front of her, dressed in a pretty green dress.  
  
"Happy birthday Angela!" She was beaming at the mere thought of being around the people she considered family.  
  
"Samantha!" Jonathon raced over and gave her a hug before he began looking around again, obviously in search of something. "Where's Tony?"  
  
Angela realized that was the one point she was overlooking—where was Tony?  
  
"Dad has to finish doing the stables tonight—he's getting them ready for winter." Sam rolled her eyes before passing a small bag to Angela. "It's just something small I thought you'd like."  
  
"Thank you sweetheart," Angela opened the bag, and pulled out a picture frame. "It's a picture of all of us," Angela smiled, noting that she and Tony had leaned a little too much into each other in the picture and looked very cozy. Feeling the tears swell in her eyes, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to Samantha's forehead. "Thank you so very much—this means a lot to me."  
  
"You're welcome." Sam stood there awkwardly for a moment, before realizing it was probably best if she said good bye. "I should probably get going. Gantley is waiting in the car for me, and you probably have plans for tonight."  
  
"Would you like to join us?" Jonathon asked eagerly.  
  
Sam looked between Angela and Jonathon. "I don't want to be in the way," she said thoughtfully.  
  
"Never!" Angela said with determination. "You're family, and you're always welcome."  
  
Sam smiled. "You sure?"  
  
"Of course," Angela assured her.  
  
"I'll go tell Gantley to let dad know," Sam said, running towards the car at the curbside.  
  
"I miss Sam and Tony a lot," Jonathon told his mother.  
  
"So do I," Angela confessed, wondering if she'd ever see Tony again.  
  
21***  
  
"Thanks for dinner Angela. Happy birthday." Giving her a hug, Sam wished the night didn't have to end. "Thank you for driving me home too, Gantley hates driving me around the city." She laughed a little, forcing herself to try and keep it light.  
  
"Thank you for coming, and that wonderful gift," Angela said, holding on as tightly as possible to the girl.  
  
Jonathon had long since passed out in the back seat of the car, too tired to care about anything going on around him, and in a way they were both thankful—it gave them some much needed 'mother/daughter' time.  
  
Watching Sam go into the house, she was reminded of that time long ago when she dropped her off after their birthday celebrations. When she went home, she was greeted by an angry Michael, but later a phone call from Tony. He wouldn't be calling tonight, she told her self. Of that much she was certain.  
  
**  
  
"'Night dad," Sam called into his office as she walked past on her way to bed.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, you get your butt in here!" Leaping to his feet, he rushed into the hallway.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Gantley came back and told me that you were gonna find your own way home—no phone call to me to find out if that was okay, or anything."  
  
"I was with Angela."  
  
"I don't care if you're with the Queen of England; you call and ask permission young lady." He knew in a way he was being irrational but at the same time he was so angry that she had just made that decision on her own.  
  
"I was with Angela, you know...that woman who used to be your best friend?" Sam's hands had perched themselves carefully on her hips, and she was jumping into full battle mode. Angela was like a mother to her, and if he was going to start playing stupid games and prevent her from seeing her...Sam was going to fight him, no question.  
  
"Don't take that tone with me, young lady. Angela has a life, and you and I aren't a part of it—I said you could go over and take her a gift, but I didn't say you could stay out, way past curfew and not even ask me for permission." His voice was much harsher than he had intended but Tony felt like he was losing yet another person. First his wife, then his best friend and near lover, and now his daughter was stepping away from him.  
  
"Who says? Who says she doesn't want anything to do with me? Huh? Because she seemed happy enough to have me there. In fact, it was great, it was like old times almost." Tears were forming in her eyes, and Sam wondered if maybe her father was right. Maybe things just seemed to be okay—maybe they weren't really.  
  
"Look, Sam, we have our lives, and they're here. Angela has hers with Jonathon and Michael." Tony tasted bile in his mouth at the mere mention of his name.  
  
"You..." Sam looked at him in disbelief. "You were her best friend, and you don't even know?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"No wonder we don't spend any time with Jonathon and Angela any more, you don't care about them, do you?"  
  
Tony looked at his daughter, unsure of what to make of the entire situation. She had never spoken to him like that before.  
  
"Angela and Michael are divorced—have been since the end of July." Sam narrowed her eyes. "If you and Angela are supposed to best friends, maybe you should know that."  
  
Throwing closed the door behind her, Sam ran to her room to cry, wishing that Angela was her mother, and Tony was just some jerk off the street—because that was definitely how he was acting.  
  
22***  
  
"Sam? Can you come in here please?" He heard her run past the door and decided to seize the opportunity.  
  
"What?" Sam had been totally unresponsive since her fight with Tony a week earlier, and there were no signs of things getting any better.  
  
"I was wondering if you wanted to take Jonathon, Mona and Angela out for dinner—we could call them and all go out to Vincentico's if you'd like." This was his attempt. If he left it up to her, then he wouldn't have to make the decision. It seemed worth a try at least.  
  
"Why?" Her glare was accusatory, and made him feel remarkably uncomfortable.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Why do you suddenly want to spend time with them?"  
  
"Because," Tony tried to think of a good reason that he was suddenly coming around, but truth be known, he was doing it because he was tired of her being angry at him, and he was more than a little curious what was happening in Angela's life. "I think that I owe it to all of us to make some time. Things are finally packed away for the winter, I have some time, and I know it would be fun." He wondered if he had covered as well as he thought, or if he was deluding himself.  
  
"Yeah, and I'm Cyndi Lauper," Sam said quickly—she had been finding it harder and harder to be civil towards him.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, do not start that with me! I'm tryin', okay? What else can I do?"  
  
"Too late," Sam countered. "I'm going for a walk. Suddenly I feel like I need to burn off some extra anger. Maybe shoot some hoops. Something."  
  
"Come back here!" Tony watched his daughter storm out. It was for certain, he had lost all three of the women he loved, and it was his own damn fault.  
  
**  
  
It was twenty to twelve when the doorbell rang at 3344 Oak Hills drive, and it stunned Angela into consciousness. Nobody ever came by that late, nor were they welcome.  
  
As the doorbell rang a second time, Angela pulled her housecoat over her shoulders and made her way down the steps.  
  
"You'd better have a damn good reason," she mumbled as she reached for the handle of the door, but as she opened it, she realized who it was standing there, and another set of emotions washed over her. "Sam, honey? What are you doing here so late?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have come," Sam said as she turned to walk away. She had started walking around the grounds of the house, then around the neighborhood and next thing she knew she was in Fairfield and at Angela's house.  
  
"No, don't be silly. Are you okay?" Angela ushered the girl in, worrying about her frazzled appearance.  
  
"Yeah," Sam lied, unconvincingly.  
  
"What's wrong?" Angela corralled her over to the sofa, before settling down beside her. "You don't usually show up here in the middle of the night."  
  
"I guess I was just lonely."  
  
"Why sweetheart? What's wrong?" Angela moved in and hugged the seemingly frail girl, wishing that whatever burden she was carrying, she'd be able to help.  
  
"It's dad..."  
  
Angela's heart sank. What happened to Tony? She wanted to ask, but she couldn't manage a voice—her mouth was too dry and her heart was pounding.  
  
"He's changed, and I don't like who he is now," Sam began, "and he only seems to keep changing."  
  
"Oh," Angela said, trying not to sound too relieved. "What do you mean he's changed?"  
  
"He's just...he's always working, and he never has time for me. And when he does, it's like he only wants to shoot hoops or go to Brooklyn. I try to get him to bring me here and he fights with me, and when I ask him why he's being so stupid, he just...he stops talking. Dad never used to stop talking."  
  
"I'm sure he's just..."  
  
"Oh, don't try to cover for him, Angela, he didn't even know you and Mr. Bower got divorced until tonight! He's not paying any attention to anything that's happening around him."  
  
"He didn't know I was divorced?" She didn't mean to sound so confused, or shocked, but that was the last thing that she had expected to hear.  
  
"Isn't he awful?" Sam wondered where she had lost Angela.  
  
"Well, I'm sure there's more to it than that...Maybe just give him some time to settle in to all of his new responsibilities..."  
  
"Sure, and what about me? I lost you and Jonathon and Mona, and other than dad, you guys were the only family I had. And now because he's being a jerk, I don't even have you—Angela, do you know..." Sam fumbled for the words to express how hurt she was by the situation. "I've lost one mother to cancer, and now I've lost another 'cause Dad's too stupid to do anything."  
  
Angela felt shell-shocked. Of all the conversations she expected to have, this wasn't one of them. As much as it warmed her heart to think that Sam considered her as a mother, it killed her to realize how much the idiotic games between her and Tony were hurting her.  
  
"Honey, oh honey," Angela said in a soothing voice, "you will never, ever lose me, because I love you too much and I miss you too much when you're not around. Sweetheart," she tilted Sam's head up towards her, "I love you like my very own daughter and have for a long time. I could never walk out of your life."  
  
"Where have you been the past five months?"  
  
There was no good answer. "That...that was me being silly, and not prioritizing properly. I guess I was scared you didn't want me in your life, and I didn't want to push you, but if I promise to never be silly like that again, do you promise to let me know when you're feeling like this?" Angela wiped a few tears off of her cheek, wondering when she began to cry.  
  
"Can I stay here tonight?"  
  
"Yes, of course you can! Do you want me to fix up your room?"  
  
"Can I sleep in with you tonight?"  
  
"Of course," Angela said, making a mental note that she'd have to talk to Tony in the morning and tell him that they'd have to work out some sort of 'custody' arrangement. No matter what the legalities were, they had been a family, and she didn't want to lose Sam again.  
  
23***  
  
At 3:30 in the morning, the doorbell sounded again, and Angela was starting to wonder if there was a sign in front of her house that said 'I don't need sleep, come here at strange times'.  
  
Padding her way down the stairs and to the door, she wondered who it would be this time and if she'd be able to go back to bed any time soon. She had a big day ahead of her, and she wanted to be as well rested as possible when she spoke to Tony about making arrangements.  
  
Opening the door, she was shocked to see Tony standing there. "Hi," he said meekly. "Um, is Sam here?"  
  
"Yeah, she's upstairs asleep...what are you doing here?" Angela wanted to feel relief that it wasn't another emergency, but at the same time, she was facing Tony in the middle of the night, and wondering what the hell was going on.  
  
"Sam left the house a few hours ago, said she was going to shoot some hoops and shake off some anger...she didn't come back." Tony heaved a sigh of relief that his daughter was indeed okay, even if it meant he had to face Angela.  
  
"Oh my God, I'm sorry—I didn't realize that you didn't know she was here. I never thought..."  
  
"She's pretty mad at me, huh?"  
  
"Sounds like she has a right to be." Angela hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but it was true—it sounded like Tony was neglecting his daughter, and her needs.  
  
He looked at her, trying to understand what she was saying. Obviously she knew something that he didn't.  
  
"Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?" It was awkward, and there was no way around that, but since he was there, on her door step, what was to lose in forcing some friendly conversation.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
She waved him in, and headed towards the kitchen. If she had known it was going to be him at the door, she would have done her hair up at least.  
  
**  
  
"She said that?"  
  
"Yes. She's really hurt and I don't blame her—we've been so immature in all of this. If we can't be friends then...we'll have to live with that, but we can't let her feel neglected. It's not fair to her." Angela took another sip of her coffee, and a bite of ice cream. The sweetness of the ice cream made the coffee taste less bitter, and it distracted her from the conversation she was having.  
  
"So, what do I have to do to fix this?"  
  
"Pay attention to her? Maybe tell Mrs. Wallingford that you need some days off just to spend time with her? I don't know...I do know that I want to spend more time with Sam, if you don't mind. I was thinking we could arrange something regular for her...You know, come over here every other weekend or something?" Angela hoped that Tony wouldn't treat it like too big of a deal—any luck and he'd just see it as a friend making plans, and not as a quasi-custody arrangement.  
  
"Like joint custody?" Tony looked at her in shock.  
  
"More like a guaranteed time to spend with her. She needs Jonathon, mother and me, and we need her. There's no way around that."  
  
"You had that and then you decided to go back to your husband, remember?" Tony was livid at the implication that she somehow deserved joint custody of his daughter, when she was the one that made it impossible for them to be together.  
  
"And then I left him, and you left me. Or do you need to be reminded of that?" The look on Tony's face was enough to make Angela defensive. "How dare you blame me when you are the one that walked away from us?"  
  
"I walked away because you and your husband were making out in the doorway—I didn't want to wait for you to tell me to leave."  
  
Angela stared at him in shock, unable to fathom what he had just said. Tony thought that she and Michael were making out in the doorway?  
  
"He kissed me," Angela began.  
  
"And you kissed him back," Tony interrupted.  
  
"I pushed him away and told him to leave...I told him I wanted the divorce and that I had moved on. When I went into the kitchen to talk to you, you were gone. But you left me breakfast, so I should appreciate that, right?"  
  
It was Tony's turn to be dumbfounded. "That's not what I saw," he countered.  
  
"I don't know what you thought you saw, but whatever it was, it wasn't real...I had no intentions of taking Michael back. I thought we were finally at the point where we could build a relationship, and then you showed me otherwise—apparently I was wrong." Angela pushed the bowl away from in front of her, and sighed. "I don't know what you thought you saw, or what you thought you heard, but I loved you and you walked away from me right after you told me you'd never leave me. And it hurt."  
  
Tony felt suddenly very stupid. He had spent the past months throwing himself into his work, and trying to avoid everything that reminded him of his life before Michael showed up (including his daughter) and it was all because of something he thought he saw... "Loved?"  
  
She looked at him, not sure what to make of his question.  
  
"As in past-tense?"  
  
"As in, I felt so much for you and you walked away from me—not so much as a goodbye even. I would have done anything to be with you, until you proved you wouldn't." Angela could barely contain her tears—it was opening old, but hardly healed wounds, and it felt like some kind of punishment.  
  
"I didn't stop loving you though...I couldn't—and I did try." His sincerity scared her.  
  
"That's my consolation prize? Let me ask you this: why didn't you fight for me? Why were you willing to walk away from me so easily, after having said that you loved me?"  
  
"I wanted you to be happy, and at the time it looked like Michael was what you wanted. You were kissing him, and he..." Tony stopped, trying to shake the image from his head. "He was holdin' you and you didn't seem to be pushing him away. I thought that you were giving it another try—that he had said something so romantically heroic, and you didn't want anything to do with me."  
  
"I wanted us to give it a try. I wanted to spend time with you and to make love to you and to wake up in your arms. I wanted everything that you were offering, and then you walked away and it scared me. It made me think that you didn't really want as much from us as I wanted, and I decided not to follow you if you had decided I wasn't worth it." Angela was now full out crying at her admissions. There were so many emotions she had been afraid to address, and it seemed like too great of an admission to be made over a cup of coffee in the middle of the night.  
  
"It was never, ever that I thought you weren't worth it. Madonna Mia, I've felt so...angry...ever since. Do you know how many nights I've spent wishing you were with me, like that night on the couch? I just wanted to hold you and I couldn't. And I told you before; I couldn't imagine being around you if I couldn't love you." Tony moved around the table and knelt in front of her. "Everything I said to you—it was all the truth. I never thought I'd be able to move on after Marie. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life just playin', and then I met you...and...I know I've been awful to you, and I know that I've been a jerk to my daughter...but do you think there's such a thing as second chances?"  
  
There was a moment of silence before either one of them thought they could utter another word. The night had been too emotional, and it didn't seem to be getting any better.  
  
"Do you think we deserve another chance?" Angela hadn't meant to sound so skeptical, but the events of the past months had been enough to make her wonder if they really were meant to have a relationship together or if it was better this way. It certainly didn't feel right—to be apart—but it seemed like one more tough decision to be made.  
  
"I know I miss you, and love you. And I'd rather not keep torturing myself." His eyes were begging her to listen to her heart more than her logical mind—nothing about their relationship so far had been logical, why should this be any different?  
  
When Angela still hadn't answered, after what felt like hours, Tony decided to do the kind thing, and give her some time.  
  
"Look, I know where Sam is, and I feel better knowing she's with you. I wish we could talk more, but I know you're not feeling up to it, and I'm not going to pressure you, so I'm going back to Mrs. Wallingford's now. If you could tell Sam to call me when she's ready to come back, I'll come pick her up." He hesitated. "I don't want to leave, but I'm not going to do this to you again. I know I'm asking somethin' big of you, and you've given us a chance to talk it over. That's all you owed us." Standing, he made his way to the door, wishing she would say something to stop him from leaving, but understanding why she didn't.  
  
"Good night," she called after him, knowing that she probably wouldn't fall back asleep again that night, but that she should try. There were so many things to consider, and eventually she'd have to make a decision.  
  
24***  
  
Angela had spent the night tossing and turning, before she finally managed to close her eyes for what felt like no more then ten minutes. There were so many things to be considered, and so many emotions left unchecked. The only thing she could think of was that she had never wanted Tony or Sam to move out. Every step beyond that seemed too great a task.  
  
Thank God for Sundays, Angela thought, as she watched Sam sleep for a while, hoping that at least she would be getting some sound sleep.  
  
A part of Angela—the part that was nonsensical most of the time—wanted to get out of bed that instant, call her mother over to watch the children (if she had gotten home from her date yet) and go to see Tony. That, however, she deemed as the wrong course of action—there were too many variables, and more than anything, she wasn't sure she could open her heart that freely.  
  
The less emotional part of Angela was telling her that she'd be better off without the distraction and obligations of a relationship—she had already lost enough time and energy to mourning the loss of her relationship with him, so why revisit it?  
  
Sliding out of bed and making her way down the steps into the living room, she decided to make a phone call, and when that was over, her decision would be made.  
  
**  
  
"I'm glad you decided to meet me," Angela said as she slid into the booth seat at the restaurant.  
  
"I'm glad you called," Tony said, smiling slightly. When she had called, Tony was feeling a cornucopia of emotions, none of which were easily pacified.  
  
There was a moment of awkward and somewhat frustrating silence.  
  
"I thought about it," she said, biting her tongue and thinking 'there just may still be time to turn back' "and I...I guess there are some conditions to consider."  
  
He looked at her in confusion, wondering what kind of conditions she might impose.  
  
"If we give this a second chance, no body finds out until we're certain it's going to work—I don't want the kids to get their hopes up, and then have us crush them. If you and I try this, we keep it under wraps for a while."  
  
He nodded his head, disappointed that he couldn't tell Sam, but more concerned about what else was to come.  
  
"We take our time, and we don't rush it along, because I think we both know what happens when we rush things." Angela looked down at her hands, vividly remembering the times they had found themselves in uncomfortable positions only to be let down very soon thereafter. "Last thing: as much as I want you to move back in—I mean, you and Sam—I think it'd be better if you didn't for now, until our relationship has some form of definition. If we're just going to stay friends, okay...if we're something more, okay, but not if we have no clue; that will just confuse the children." She wanted to add 'and us' but it wasn't worth adding fuel to the fire.  
  
"I can live with that," Tony said, feeling oddly like he had just negotiated the sale of something. "Can you?"  
  
"They're my terms," Angela countered, in a state of disbelief that he'd even ask.  
  
He decided to drop the subject. There was no use pulling them into another fight. "So, when do we try this?" Tony felt like he was discussing a new recipe or something, but most definitely not a relationship.  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Tomorrow, dinner?"  
  
"Okay," Angela said, feeling unusually uncomfortable. This 'plan' was supposed to resolve their problems, and instead they only seemed worse.  
  
"I'll pick you up around..."  
  
"I'll meet you at 6:30. At Petrova's?" Angela jumped in, hoping Tony understood why she was planning on meeting him at the restaurant—that was all part of keeping it a secret.  
  
"Alright. Tomorrow at 6:30 then." Sipping his coffee, Tony felt his relationship with Angela slipping away from him.  
  
25***  
  
The date had been less than what one might consider eventful. Dinner was full of silences, which neither was sure how to fill. Both felt consumed by a reluctance to 'push their luck' or to 'force an issue' leaving them sticking to safe (and somewhat bland) topics.  
  
Their most fortuitous conversation seemed to revolve around the children. Angela began by asking about Sam, and how she was doing, and Tony got that gleam in his eye that said 'joy, my favourite subject.' When he finished, he asked about Jonathon and Mona, and Angela smiled, drawing comparisons in her conversation between her two children. The end result? She didn't know who was worse for misbehaving some days: Mona or Jonathon.  
  
Conversation seemed to die out while they ate, despite the fact that they were trying to rebuild their relationship, neither seemed sure of how to do that.  
  
As the table was cleared, Tony began to feel antsy. If this date were any indication of how their relationship was going to fare, they might as well give up now, and that was certainly something he wasn't willing to do.  
  
"This is stupid," he announced, worrying the bus boy who was clearing the table. When Angela didn't say anything, he continued. "We've been best friends, we've been employee/employer, and we've helped raise each other's children, but we can't talk to each other over dinner because we're too scared to mess something up."  
  
Angela tried to interject: to point out that the only reason they've not moved beyond this point was because he walked away, but she couldn't speak. She felt his hand reach across and hold hers, and it took her breath away. Was it possible she had forgotten how good it felt when he touched her?  
  
"I'm worried I'm going to lose you because of all of this. I love you too much to give up and when I said I'd play by your damn rules, I should have demanded a few of my own...I want to be able to touch you without bein' afraid that you're going to take offense to it. I want to be able to kiss you and to pick you up when we go out for dinner."  
  
"We agreed..."  
  
"No, you decided, and I want you too much to disagree."  
  
"So you lied?"  
  
"No, I went along with it," Tony said, hoping that he was taking the right approach to their relationship. "I understand why you don't want the children to know, and I agree, it is best we not involve them until we know more for sure, but I also think that we should be able to have fun."  
  
"So what are you proposing?" She was somewhat in awe from his impromptu speech.  
  
"Tomorrow night, I want to pick you up, and we'll go somewhere of my choice for our next date?"  
  
"Why don't you pick me up from the office?" He was probably going to find that idea offensive, but if of nothing else, Angela was certain that she wanted their relationship to remain low key.  
  
"Alright, it's a date. Bring casual clothes. And maybe a bathing suit." Tony laughed when Angela's jaw dropped. "Well, the bathing suit can be optional if you want," he offered.  
  
**  
  
"Your carriage awaits m'lady," Tony smiled as he opened the door to the limo.  
  
"A limo?"  
  
"Well, I wanted tonight to be special, so yes, a limo." Angela felt a little funny getting into a limo in jeans and a knit sweater—he had called earlier in the day to instruct her of what to bring, and it had nearly caused her to spend the better part of the day at Bloomingdale's.  
  
Closing the door behind him, Tony smiled and pressed the intercom. "Set," Tony said, before releasing the button and turning to Angela. "I forgot how great you look in jeans," he commented.  
  
Angela blushed, forgetting how Tony could always make her feel giddy.  
  
As the car began its route, Tony felt like this would be a much more successful date: things were looking up.  
  
**  
  
"I can't believe you brought me to a cabin," Angela said, looking around, and drinking in her surroundings. It was the perfect little rustic get away, save for the hot tub on the back patio and phone on the table in the one room structure.  
  
"I brought you here because I know you like star gazing...where better than from a hot tub?" Tony grinned. "Besides, it's really nice to be able to sit on the deck and listen to the world."  
  
"You can hear things from here?"  
  
"Nature," he conceded. "But it's even quieter than Fairfield. It's like being in the middle of no where."  
  
"Twenty minutes out side of the city," she added, in awe.  
  
"Come with me," Tony said, leading her by the hand to a blanket he had laid out on the ground, under a tree, and looking over a river. "This," he said, gesturing to the river and the area around them, "is where we'll have dinner."  
  
It seemed almost perfect, sitting on the river bank, on a blanket with a picnic basket at their side and watching the sunset.  
  
"It's getting chilly," Angela remarked, thankful that it had been the warmest November she could remember, although still feeling bitten by the cold.  
  
"Want my jacket?" Offering it to her, Tony was pleased when she slid it over her shoulders.  
  
"You sure know how to pick a place to take a date," Angela said, lying on her back, looking down on the river and the millions of shades of red that were dancing on the water and at the skeletal trees, naked of their leaves standing in the foreground.  
  
"I don't usually bring dates here," Tony said quietly, watching her as she absorbed the picturesque scenery.  
  
"Why not? I'm sure they'd fall into bed with you instantly," she quipped, before realizing how catty of a remark that was, and how poorly she was behaving. Looking up at Tony, she felt instantly terrible at the fallen expression he wore. "I'm sorry," Angela said softly. "Really."  
  
"This place...this cabin...It was Nick's wedding gift to me and Marie. Just a little place to call our own, on two acres of land." Tony cleared his throat. "I've not even brought Sam here yet because I've always felt it was private...It's hard to explain." He paused for a moment. "I've never brought anyone here until today."  
  
Angela sat up, and examined Tony's expression, realizing that not only was he telling her the truth, but she had just—in a moment of utter stupidity—sullied what Tony was trying to do for her.  
  
"I never knew," she nearly whispered.  
  
"Nick used to come and stay here sometimes—it made him feel closer to Marie. He put in the phone line, the hot tub, and the indoor plumbing; Lord love him, he never could survive in the 'great outdoors'." Tony laughed, trying to keep down the pain he felt forming. No matter how much he and Nick had fought, Tony still loved him.  
  
"I can only imagine," Angela said, as she reached for Tony's hand. "I'm really honoured that you brought me here."  
  
Standing peacefully on the bank of the river, Angela considered what repercussions her actions might have. If she didn't push Tony away, where would they end up? Would they ever have a 'special place' of their own and if they did, when would they go there? Would he want to take her away on special 'getaways' or would they just do the kind of stuff that she had always done in relationships?  
  
"You know," Angela said, "that I'm not really mad at you, right? I mean, I'm hurt, but not angry really."  
  
"That's good," Tony offered. "I'd prefer it if you weren't hurt either, but I really am trying to make it up to you."  
  
"I'm not sure you're the one who hurt me." Angela looked at their hands joined, and the way he was looking at her. It seemed to be the perfect moment. "I mean, I was really hurt when you walked away without so much as a goodbye, but at the same time, I guess I was already a little...raw."  
  
"Angela, you don't have to do this: I'm the one who walked away. It was stupid, and I know it hurt."  
  
"But it hurt more knowing that I didn't feel I could trust anyone. Not just you, but anyone. I felt like there was some kind of force working against me...Point is we're making the most of this evening. Where'd you put our bags? We should go for a dip in the hot tub to warm up." Angela stood, smiling down on him.  
  
"You know you can trust me, right? Unless you tell me to get lost, you're never gonna be free of me. And even then it's debatable." Tony stood and moved nearer to her, wondering if it was too bold of him to want to touch her.  
  
"Kiss me?" It was a strange question to ask, Angela had to admit, but she wanted to feel his arms around her, and know that the feelings she had for him were matched by his own.  
  
Leaning in, Tony placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, allowing his fingers to graze down the length of her arm. "We're taking it slow, remember?" His words were almost teasing, but she knew what he was telling her: they weren't going to break too many rules all at once.  
  
26***  
  
After an eventful evening of walking along the river bank and an impromptu canoe trip across the river and down stream, both Tony and Angela were feeling a bit stiff and in need of some nice relaxing time in the hot tub.  
  
"I never thought a place like this really existed...being in a hot tub, staring up at the stars, trees everywhere, and the sounds of nature...It's like being in a wonderful movie," Angela said, sipping her wine. She wasn't sure how many glasses she had drank, and although she was certain she had probably drank more than she should, she still enjoyed the sweet and smooth amber liquid.  
  
"It doesn't usually seem this good," Tony said, playing with the jet behind him, and trying to massage his shoulders with it.  
  
"If you slide any further down you're going to drown," Angela teased.  
  
"If I do one more thing that requires my shoulder blades to move, I won't be able to move for the next week. Drowning will seem like a good option."  
  
"I could..." Angela fumbled, her imagination temporarily running away from her. "I could massage your back for you if you wanted."  
  
"I thought we were taking it slow?"  
  
"It's just a massage," Angela said sweetly. "I'm hardly going to...anyway, if your back hurts, then why shouldn't I?"  
  
"Because it won't stop there," Tony said, laughing a bit, his eyes dancing.  
  
There was a pause between them as they both considered what was going on between them.  
  
"Why do we always end up on top of each other? Seriously, we end up..." Angela gestured with her hands more wildly than she thought, spilling some of her wine into the tub. "We seem to end up making out more often than not."  
  
"Because I think you're the most beautiful, amazing, sexy woman in the world and I love you?"  
  
Angela blushed, wishing she didn't want to dive to the other side of the tub and kiss him. She thought about it for a moment, seriously inclined to give in to her baser instinct, but refrained. "Michael and I...the only thing we had, mind you, we had an abundance of it, was absolutely amazing sex. It's amazing we only ever had Jonathon. We're not going to be like that, are we?"  
  
Tony thought for a moment, trying not to sound too cliché. "We've been friends for too long to base a relationship on sex. We're best friends, we take care of each other, and when we do make love, it will be amazing...fireworks."  
  
"And we'll have more than that connection," Angela asked, seeking reassurance.  
  
"We already do."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They slipped back into a comfortable silence, staring up at the stars and contemplating what their relationship would become.  
  
27***  
  
Christmas approached quickly, bringing with it mistletoe and gift shopping.  
  
Angela had spent three weeks looking for the perfect give to give Tony. It had to be something that was innocent, and it had to be something that she would feel comfortable watching him open.  
  
At first she was going to buy him a sweater and a pair of slacks, but then she wondered how he'd interpret that gift. It was pretty superficial and basic...She'd known him much too long to buy something like that, right?  
  
Angela's alternative gift option, which she had debated for what seemed like forever, but in fact must have only been about two weeks, was a black silk negligee. She wanted them to take the next step in their relationship but she didn't want it to be awkward. What if Tony wanted to wait? Would he see the gift as indulgent instead of what it was intended to be?  
  
It was four days before Christmas when Angela finally found what she had been looking for, or at least what she hoped was the perfect gift.  
  
**  
  
"I don't know what to buy," he said frustrated. "I thought about buying her an amazing sweater I saw when I was in Bloomingdales but that's so..."  
  
"Typical?" Gantley asked, as he dusted the office. "You could purchase a few items...and then on Christmas, just give her which ever tickles your fancy," the stout British butler offered.  
  
"I just...I want this to be perfect. It's the first Christmas since we've met that we've been apart, but we're a couple now...and it has to be perfect," Tony confessed. "I don't want to buy the wrong thing and mess it up."  
  
"This Catherine woman," Gantley said, "doesn't seem like the kind to be that material is she? I mean, the way you talk about her, she sounds like she should be sainted."  
  
Tony flinched at the use of the name 'Catherine'.  
  
Just after he and Angela had started dating, Mrs. Wallingford had asked him why he was disappearing so much, and then when he brushed her off, she had flat out asked him who the woman was. Not really for any particular reason, Tony realized, but because she wanted to be as much a friend to him as Angela had been, and because she really did have a genuine affection for her new head housekeeper. Tony's only response to the question was to say 'Catherine'—he used Angela's middle name to dig him out of a bind. Ever since, everyone had been careful not to mention Catherine around Sam, but determined to keep digging into his life.  
  
"She's not, really. Just this is so important. A Christmas gift is a big deal," he said sadly. If he couldn't come up with a good gift idea, he'd soon have to recruit some more help.  
  
"What do you think about when you think of her?" Gantley asked, with one last attempt at being helpful.  
  
Tony thought about her for a moment, and suddenly felt a fire of inspiration. There was one thing that he had wanted to buy her for a while, and this seemed like the perfect time.  
  
**  
  
"Merry Christmas," Tony said, pulling a long box out from behind the sofa. "Now, just remember, this is a multipart gift, so don't ask questions until you've pulled out all the pieces." Tony smiled as Angela cocked her eyes at him, wondering if he had gone crazy.  
  
Angela gently slid of the bow and began to open the paper on the narrow end of the box. "Should I be afraid?"  
  
"Only if you have a phobia of Christmas gifts," Tony said sweetly.  
  
As she opened the box, she smiled at the sight of neatly wrapped individual presents. "You've really gone all out," she said quietly, as she picked up the gift at the top of the box. Opening the tissue paper, Angela began to beam. "This is the most beautiful album ever," she remarked, fascinated by the beautiful bound leather inscribed in neat italics. "Our family," she read. "This is great."  
  
Tony patted himself on the back, proud that the first part of the gift wasn't too intrusive. "Keep going," he encouraged.  
  
Opening the second neatly wrapped package, Angela allowed a little laugh to escape her. "You bought me a cook book?"  
  
"Not just any cook book," he told her, hoping she'd understand the joke.  
  
"How to feed your man: A Brooklyn guide to nurturing and love." Angela snickered. "This was a find unlike no other."  
  
"I hope you understand that it is purely for humor," he prefaced. "I just thought you'd get a kick out of the cooking to keep your man section. And my particular favorite was 'how to gain weight fast: guidelines for the underweight woman.' In Brooklyn, it's not just the meals that are abundant," he joked.  
  
When she scowled slightly, he moved in closer. "I love you just the way you are...I would never want you to change unless you wanted to...and even then, it would take serious adjustment...I just thought that once you and I became public knowledge, this might help you deal with everyone, and maybe laugh it off."  
  
"You don't think I need to learn how to cook?"  
  
"I'm more than happy doing all the cooking for the rest of our lives," Tony assured her, wondering if he overshot the line in buying her something humorous.  
  
"And you're not going to make me gain weight?"  
  
"I love you no matter what you weigh, as long as you're healthy," he remarked honestly. "Now open the rest of your presents."  
  
As she dug into the next part of her gift, she gasped when she saw it: the most perfect ceramic pink rose she had ever seen.  
  
"This is...remarkable," she said, examining the flower.  
  
"I want to give you flowers sometimes, but I worry about you having to explain it. Now, you'll always have this to remind you." Nodding, he gestured for her to press on to the last piece in the box.  
  
As she opened the last wrapped box, she was surprised to find a long velveteen jewelry box. Chewing on her lower lip, Angela felt a remarkable reluctance to open the parcel. There was this perfect image she held in her mind's eye of a beautiful piece of jewelry but at the same time, she was afraid to open it: jewelry seemed like such a commitment gift.  
  
"It's not the scary kind of gift," Tony said, almost reading her mind.  
  
As she pressed her fingers on either side of the box and took a deep breath before finally opening it. "Wow," was all she could muster.  
  
Shining back at her, Angela saw a beautiful soft gold chain lying on a blue bed of velvet. On the chain itself, she saw five beautiful diamonds set in separate golden claws, elegantly falling. "This is too much," she said quietly, absorbing the whole reality of the gift.  
  
"It's just a start," he said romantically, hoping she'd see how much she meant to him. "Five diamonds: one for each member of our family."  
  
She looked at him in awe, trying to not feel consumed by his words.  
  
"Mona, Jonathon, Samantha, you and me. We're all there. I want you to know that no matter what happens, and no matter where we go, we're still family, and we're still together—even if we're not in the same place."  
  
"Oh, Tony," Angela said, tears forming in her eyes.  
  
"Merry Christmas," he replied as he gently pressed a kiss to her lips and watched as she eyed the chain.  
  
"Your gift isn't nearly as good," she said quietly. Handing him the box, and still barely able to take her eyes off of the necklace.  
  
Sliding his fingers beneath the paper, he opened the box labeled 'Bloomingdales' to reveal a brown leather bomber jacket.  
  
"This is so great," Tony said sincerely, impressed by the gift. "And you think your gifts are too much?"  
  
She felt embarrassed that she hadn't bought him something more personal than that: something with the same sentimental possibilities.  
  
"I love it," he whispered before leaning in for another kiss. "And when I can't have you around to keep me warm, I'll have this," he teased.  
  
28***  
  
"I was wondering," Angela asked as she twirled the phone cord around her finger. She was growing quite accustomed to the late night phone calls. "I was wondering if you had plans for this Friday night?"  
  
"Well, Friday's are my riding nights, but you always rank higher than any equine," Tony smiled. The past few weeks had been genuinely comfortable for them: their relationship was flourishing and there was no question that they really were in love.  
  
"I think that's a compliment," Angela said, grinning. "Any way, how about you let me plan our next date night? You've planned them all, and I feel like maybe I don't do enough for us."  
  
"You do plenty," he argued. "You show up every time with out fail and that's all I've asked you to do."  
  
"But I want to do something, so just shut up and let me." She had tried to sound forceful, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't make it work.  
  
"I guess I won't argue,' Tony conceded. "You're amazing, you know that?"  
  
"So you keep telling me." There was a beat before she continued. "I love you. Sweet dreams, okay?"  
  
"I love you too, Ang. I wish I was there...or that you were here, or we were...any where together." He'd grown to hate hanging up the phone because it could mean anywhere up to another twenty four hours before they'd speak again, and inevitably he'd miss her terribly by about the tenth hour, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night wanting to call her just to hear her voice.  
  
"So do I," she agreed before hanging up the receiver.  
  
**  
  
When Tony's car pulled up to the driveway of the cabin, he wondered where Angela was. It seemed odd that he beat her there on a Friday night—especially when she was so determined to organize the evening for them.  
  
Pulling his bag from the passenger seat of the car, he closed the door and just stood there for a moment, breathing in the scenery, the peaceful looking river and the cottage he had grown to love.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts," she called to him, as she appeared on the patio.  
  
"You look amazing," Tony replied, mesmerized by the appearance of Angela in her bathing suit, just out of the hot tub and the effect that the night air was having on her body.  
  
"I doubt those were your thoughts thirty seconds ago," she laughed as she approached him and pressed her body against his to kiss him.  
  
Their mouths opened, allowing the other entrance as they greeted each other.  
  
"What were you asking me?" Tony teased, holding her closer to him.  
  
"I'm getting you all wet," Angela observed, not pulling away at all.  
  
"They're just clothes," he said absently, drinking in the feel of her in his arms. It had been three days since they had seen each other, and it seemed like much too long.  
  
"Do you want to get in the hot tub?" Pulling away slightly, Angela laughed at the outline of her bathing suit on Tony's clothes—it was an amusing silhouette.  
  
Tony leaned back in for another tender kiss, before swallowing hard. "I think I'm ready for this date to begin."  
  
"I bet you are," Angela teased. "Okay then, you're welcome to go grab a seat in front of the fire. I'm going to get a shower, and dressed...then I'll bring you a drink. Just don't get too comfortable—you have to do the barbequing—I don't even want to attempt that."  
  
"What are we having for dinner?"  
  
"Good ol' fashioned steaks, and I have some potatoes baking inside, as well as some corn and other goodies. Now, go relax for a few minutes while I get things ready to start."  
  
"What makes you think I want to barbeque in February?"  
  
"Because you love me? Besides, I know that you'll barbeque anytime you can find the damn thing, so don't play with my emotions." She winked at him as began to shiver. "I'm going to get cleaned up, and then we're going to get this date under way."  
  
"I could come warm you up," Tony offered coyly.  
  
"You could, but who says I'd let you?" Angela walked into the cabin with a little more swing in her hips than usual.  
  
"You're going to be the death of me," Tony whispered to nobody in particular, wondering how they had been dating for four months without ever having made love, and only a few times sharing a bed.  
  
***  
  
"Tony?" Angela looked throughout the spacious one room cabin, trying to find him. Peeking out on to the patio and saw him sitting there, beer in hand, looking out to the trees and their snowcapped tops. She was going to ask him if he had brought any shampoo, but he was talking to someone...  
  
"You know, it's weird 'cause I never really expected this. It just kinda jumped up at me one day, and ever since...What do you think about all this? I know you're not...not here any more, but being at the cabin with Angela makes me wonder what you're thinking, and how you feel about all of this." He stilled for a moment, and took a swig of his drink.  
  
Angela looked around, trying to find out to whom Tony was directing his attention.  
  
"Ya know, Marie, I don't know if you've been watching these past four years, but a lot of things have changed. We're living in Connecticut now, and I'm a housekeeper. I used to work for Angela, until her husband fired me...but that's a different story...I'm a housekeeper in a mansion, and it's real nice. It's not the same though as when we lived with Angela. It was more fun then. Maybe it was the family we had. Jonathon, Angela's son is a real great kid. He's so smart, just like Angela and he's so great for Sam. They used to play together, now they kind of walk around each other. It's almost like they're brother and sister. And Mona! Mona's Angela's mother and she's quite the lady herself. She's crazy," Tony laughed, remembering all of her antics, "but she has a heart of gold. I've never met anyone like her. You should see her spar with Mrs. Rossini! It's real great."  
  
"And Angela...wow, there aren't many ways I can describe her. She's brilliant, and she's beautiful. She loves Sam just like she loves Jonathon, and when ever Sam has a 'woman' problem, Angela bails her out. It's really amazing to watch. Angela owns her own company too...she's a big wig Ad exec. Very la-di-dah, I know, but she's amazing. Nothing but warmth and love. Everyone loves her..." He sighed.  
  
"I love her, Marie. I never thought that after you died, I'd ever find someone else. I don't deserve to have loved two phenomenal, amazing women and especially not in one life time. But something happened, and one day I kind of...I realized that I couldn't go on pretending that I didn't have any feelings for her...You probably know that I've...I've slept with a few women in the past few years...It's been empty, and it's been so much of a waste of time, because for most of the last four years, I've wanted Angela. And in all of this, until I met her, there wasn't a woman I had the kinda feelings I had for you." He took another swing of his drink and laughed.  
  
"It almost looked like Angela and I were gonna tank—we had some really tough times, and I didn't always think we were gonna make it through 'em, but we have, and we're forever. And this isn't just lust talking, it's love. We've not made love yet," he confessed "but only because we're waiting. We don't want to define our relationship that way...But sometimes we'll spend the night together and we'll hold each other..." He stretched his legs in front of him, before leaning back on his hands.  
  
"I'm going to get her to marry me," Tony said decisively, "and when I do, I want to know that somewhere up there, you're okay with this. That you don't mind me having Angela here, and that you understand that I'm never going to forget you. I miss you Marie: you were my first love, and the memories of us are always going to fill my heart with nothing but love and happiness. I wish you were still here, so you could see how much Sam has grown, and how much we've changed since we left the neighbourhood—in good ways, I promise. I think you'd like us. I wish I had been better to you...for you. You deserved so much more than the guy I was then. I can't change that though...I should get going now...Angela should be done in the shower soon, and I'm making dinner for us...Take care of yourself and give my love to Nick: he knew Angela, Mona, and Jonathon...maybe you guys can talk about us sometime. I miss you, Marie and Sam misses you too." He finished the last swig of beer and stood up.  
  
He had wanted to talk to her for a while now, and as his feelings for Angela grew stronger and stronger he knew that he had to do it soon: Tony had no intention of leaving any loose ends.  
  
Angela wiped the tears from her eyes and headed back into the bathroom. She'd wash her hair without shampoo for now, and later she'd worry about the condition of her hair. The last thing she wanted was for Tony to know that she had heard his conversation with his wife.  
  
29***  
  
As Tony brought in the steaks, he was surprised to see the cabin filled with light from small candles and smelling of flowers.  
  
"I hope you don't mind," Angela said, as she set the last plate of food on the table, "but I decided we'd make tonight a little more romantic than usual—not that what we normally do is bad in anyway, but I really want..." Angela looked at him, hoping he understood, and when he didn't say anything, but nodded his head, she heaved a sigh of relief.  
  
Waiving her arm, she waited for him to take a seat before she dished the last parts of the meal.  
  
"This looks really great," Tony said proudly. She had told him that she had learned how to cook some things in between the housekeeper turnovers, and it wasn't that he hadn't believed her as much as seeing proved to be believing.  
  
"Well, it's very simple...but it's quickly becoming my favourite," she teased. "If I can cook it, I had better love it."  
  
Sitting down, she smiled before raising her glass. "To friendship, love and cabin getaways." Clinking her glass to his, Tony stood enough to lean over the table and kiss her.  
  
"I'm the luckiest man alive, and I don't even know how I deserve this," he whispered before leaning in for another kiss.  
  
**  
  
Dinner was full of friendly conversation and more than a few offhanded sexual remarks. There was no doubt that sexual tension was filling the cabin to within an inch of its capacity.  
  
As Angela and Tony curled into each other on the sofa, they reveled in the contact and the dim light: almost all of the factors needed to make a romantic night.  
  
"This has been really great," Tony breathed against her ear, enjoying the way Angela smelled and the way it felt to be holding her so close.  
  
"It has been fun, hasn't it?" She felt her body shift back on the couch (and towards his body) and wondered if it was a wholly subconscious thing to do.  
  
Tony nodded before closing his eyes for a moment, trying not to lose composure. The more she wriggled and shifted against him, the greater the odds of her knowing how much he wanted her.  
  
"Tony?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
She rolled on to her side, so she could face him and then made sure her body was as flush as she could manage. "Do you think we've done the right thing by not telling the children, or by sneaking around?"  
  
"I don't think we've done the wrong thing, if that's what you're asking."  
  
There was a momentary silence, and then Angela regrouped. "Do you think we'll ever tell the kids or are we stuck in this very comfortable rut?"  
  
"We will tell them, but for now I'm okay having you in my life like this...I want to wait until you're comfortable telling them our news." Tony's hand was resting on Angela's hip, and this sudden urge (in light of the conversation) to pull her nearer to him was only narrowly escaped.  
  
"Do you think that I can compete with Catherine in the meantime," Angela asked in a husky voice.  
  
Tony looked at her in shock and amazement. "How do you know about 'Catherine'?"  
  
"Sam told me this weekend that she was upset you were dating someone that she had never met, had never spoken to, or even heard of, from you first hand. And then she pointed out that you seemed really happy, but she was scared of what kind of person this Catherine might be."  
  
"I had to tell them something, and I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. Are you mad at me?"  
  
"As long as I'm Catherine, then no. I'm glad I make you happy," Angela said honestly.  
  
"You make me very happy," Tony assured her, wondering if her lack of confidence was stemming from the sneaking around or from old wounds.  
  
Angela sighed softly before closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against Tony's.  
  
In the dimly lit cabin, they both lovingly held each other, not wanting to let go for fear of the other disappearing.  
  
30***  
  
"Who is he," Mona asked as she made her way into the kitchen.  
  
"Who is who?" Confused, Angela looked up from her newspaper and her cup of coffee and wondered what kind of conversation she was about to have.  
  
"Who is this guy you're seeing, why have you been so secretive, and why haven't I met him." As she rattled off her list of questions, Mona poured her self a glass of juice.  
  
"None of your business," Angela said, returning her attention to the paper.  
  
Mona laughed. "Good one, now, who is he?"  
  
Angela could never keep a secret, and never felt the need to, so the suddenly secretive behaviour was more than a little disturbing.  
  
"I told you, it's none of your business," Angela mumbled, sipping her coffee too quickly and burning her tongue. "Damn it!"  
  
"That's what you get for lying to your mother," Mona teased.  
  
"I'm not lying to you—I've just decided it's not worth telling you anything."  
  
"I want details. I've seen the things you've been buying lately and they're much too nice for someone who's 'not worth talking about'."  
  
Angela looked at her with a mixture of confusion and shock.  
  
"I saw this big black box labed 'Macy's' and I when I peaked inside there was the most stunning blue silk night gown either... it was too..." Looking between her chest and Angela's, Mona smiled. "It was too small for me, so it had to be for you."  
  
"So, I bought a nice night gown, I've always liked silk," Angela tried to cover.  
  
"Yes, but you so rarely buy the matching negligee," Mona pointed out. "That was in the box underneath it."  
  
"Mother! Do you have nothing better to do than go through my things when I'm not home?"  
  
"I do, but when you're going out more often than I am I have to start to wonder. I'm just looking out for your best interests, I promise." Mona smiled sweetly. "So, tell me who he is, and maybe I'll give you a break."  
  
Angela thought about it for a moment, wondering if she really could tell her mother. She wanted to, but as soon as she did, it would inevitably become local knowledge in about an hour. Maybe two. She'd want to talk to Tony first, before she made that decision, and she'd want to tell the kids before they found out somewhere else. The more she considered it all, the more determined Angela was that they tell the kids something soon. "Morrie," she covered, having familiarized Tony's middle name.  
  
"You're dating a yutz named Morrie?"  
  
"He's not a yutz," Angela defended quickly. "He's a wonderful, charming man, and he's...he's just amazing, that's all."  
  
"Oh." Mona thought over her daughter's response. "So how long have you been seeing him?"  
  
"Since November, sort of," Angela offered quietly, waiting for the explosion.  
  
"What happened to Tony?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I thought you guys stood a chance at maybe getting together, now that the other yutz Michael was out of your way. I was wrong?"  
  
"What gave you that impression? What made you think that Tony and I would be getting together?" Angela felt a lump forming in her throat at the thought that Mona was disappointed she could be with anyone other than Tony. That was just one more thing about their relationship that made her wonder what was taking her so long to get her act together.  
  
"You two—you've been dancing around each other for the whole time you've known each other. It is like: you want to get together, but you're too afraid. He wants to get together, but he's too afraid, so together, you're a coupla scaredy cats who want each other but don't want to face their fears."  
  
Angela felt her mother's words hitting closer to home than she was prepared for. "What makes you think we wanted to...You know?"  
  
"It was the looks, the conversations. The way you treated each other. A million things. And apparently I read too much into them." Mona sipped at her coffee, wondering if Morrie was even half the man Tony was, and if his name was indicative of anything, she knew the truth.  
  
"Look, mother," Angela felt her resolve crumbling. Maybe she should tell her mother the truth.  
  
"Angela, I'm happy for you, whoever it is you found, because he makes you happy. I just wish it was Tony. That's me being selfish though—I really love that guy."  
  
"Thank you," Angela said, ready to cry.  
  
"Oh don't be mushy on me. If you are, I'm gonna leave," Mona said firmly, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Angela shook her head and bit back her tears. She really was blessed.  
  
31***  
  
"I think I want to tell the family," Angela said, making sure she gave her most full determination.  
  
"You do?" He didn't mean to sound skeptical, but he was starting to doubt that she would ever feel confident and assured enough that they could actually move forward.  
  
"I do. I hate that they can't share in this with us. And it's been so long. We've been together for five months and I hate that we have to feel bad for spending the night at the cabin, and we have to make excuses. We could enjoy this so much more if we just share it with them." Angela hoped she was arguing the right reasons. It was true, of course, but she also knew that Tony would be reluctant to do anything unless she was certain herself, and if she fought for the wrong reasons, it might be enough to damn them to an eternity of 'sneaking around'.  
  
"Are you sure?" There was a faint glimmer in his eye, but he didn't want to get too excited too soon. She could still say no, she wanted to wait, and he wouldn't hold it against her.  
  
"I'm positive, I swear. I had this talk with mother," she began, wondering if he would find the details of her conversation to be disheartening. "Mother asked me who I was seeing, and when I told her Morrie..."  
  
Tony snickered. "Morrie?"  
  
"From Morton," she explained. "I wanted to keep it simple."  
  
"Oh, that definitely sounds simple to me," Tony commented, trying not to laugh any harder than he already was.  
  
"Anyway, when I told her that I was seeing Morrie, she was disappointed. She wanted it to be you. And she went on to tell me all the reasons it should be you instead of him, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was right. I mean...I know you're you, and not Morrie...well, you're both, but..." Angela was having one of her incoherent moments when she felt flustered, tongue-tied and juvenile, but she could only hope she'd make it through the conversation. "The point is that I was kinda disappointed too, that it was Morrie we were talking about rather than you. It was this thing where I felt like we were cheating on each other with Morrie and Catherine, and then I realized we're cheating on ourselves; I want to be able to talk about you, and tell mother stories...I want it all, and we can't have it like this."  
  
Tony nearly leapt across the car towards her, gently but firmly grasping her face in his hands. "I love you Angela," he said before pressing a kiss to her nose gently, and then a more passionate one to her lips.  
  
"Mmmm," she mumbled against his lips, before diving back in for another taste. Their tongues tangled and caressed, neither wanting to move apart. Finally, Angela pulled away and smiled.  
  
"So, let's make plans on when to tell them."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Tony agreed.  
  
32***  
  
"So Dad said 'there's this woman I've been seeing and I thought you might like to meet her,'" Sam told Angela, hoping her friend would understand her plight.  
  
"Well, are you excited," Angela asked, feeling more than a little nervous about the situation. She would probably find it much less stressful if she weren't 'the woman'.  
  
"No, I'm scared. What if she's one of those bimbos he used to date? Or one of those women he met in the old neighbourhood? He might make me move back to Brooklyn—he has been spending the night away a lot lately. She's got to be a tramp," Sam finished. "Or worse, what if she's a dog?"  
  
Angela nearly choked on her iced tea at the implication that Tony might be dating a tramp, and the suggestiveness of what Sam thought they were doing when they spent the night away. "I doubt he'd introduce you to someone he thought wouldn't live up to your standards," Angela tried to cover.  
  
"I don't even know if he's thought about me in all of this! This woman, whoever she is, what happens if she's jealous of you?"  
  
"Why me," Angela asked.  
  
"Because." Sam explained before realizing that Angela was demanding a more concrete answer. "Because no matter what, I don't want dad to be with any one but you, and I won't like her very much, I'm sure. And if she tries to be my mother...That's your job, not some floozy's." Sam looked like she was going to break down and cry.  
  
"Honey, shhh. Don't get yourself all worked up over this because I'm sure things will work out, okay? Really. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you, and I'll always love you because I really do think of you as my daughter. And I know your father pretty well. He's not going to do anything to hurt you, as frustrating as he can be sometimes, he's a good guy."  
  
"But aren't you upset?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"That he's replaced you!"  
  
"I wasn't in his life in a way that I could be replaced, sweetheart. I mean, I was his boss and he worked here, and no matter how much I love you both, there's no way of really being 'replaced' in that way." Angela hoped that was a clear enough answer.  
  
"You love dad?"  
  
Damn it, Angela thought. Things were nearly perfect and then she threw in the 'L' word, which, as true as it might be, was inappropriately placed in a conversation that she wasn't even supposed to be having.  
  
"Of course I love your father. He was my best friend for a long time."  
  
Sam's crestfallen expression made Angela feel really quite bad. She hadn't wanted to disappoint the girl, but she wasn't going to tell her until Tony could be there as well.  
  
"I'm sure everything will work out. I promise, I'll do everything I can, alright?"  
  
Sam nodded, but Angela felt horrible for having to lie to her.  
  
**  
  
"Sam's really upset that you've moved on," Angela whispered into the phone, not wanting her to hear the conversation. She was asleep in her bed across the hall, so the odds of her hearing anything were slim, but she didn't want to take the chance.  
  
"What do you mean? She's upset that I'm not still single...because she wants me to be single forever?"  
  
"No, she wants you to be with me," Angela wondered if he really understood.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes, exactly."  
  
"What did you tell her?"  
  
"The only thing I could tell her: I'd be there for here no matter what, that I love her, and that I hope she understands that whatever you do, you're considering her as well."  
  
"Thanks," Tony said sincerely, impressed with Angela's ability to say exactly the right thing. "Now, maybe we should tell them sooner rather than later."  
  
"We definitely should," Angela agreed. There were too many near misses and upsetting moments.  
  
"We need to decide a few things." This was his chance, Tony determined, to resolve the last few ambiguities of his relationship with Angela.  
  
"What do we need to decide?"  
  
"Where are we going? Am I going to stay here at Mrs. Wallingford's for a while longer, or are we going to move back in? Do we tell them we've been lying to them, or do we pretend this is all new?"  
  
Angela entwined her fingers in her necklace. "I don't know the answers," she confessed. "I want you and Sam to live here, I know that for certain. How do you feel?"  
  
"I'd like to be closer to you, and I know Sam would. What would Jonathon think?"  
  
"He'd be nothing less than ecstatic."  
  
"So we'll move back in?"  
  
"Yeah," Angela said, feeling suddenly giddy at the realization that they'll be living under the same roof again.  
  
"I think we should tell them that we haven't been totally honest with 'em, and explain that we were doing it to spare them any disappointment. But now we're more comfortable and we really have wanted to share..."  
  
"Definitely. When are we going to do this?" Angela wanted to get this over with; there was a new goal in sight and no matter how important telling the family was, she desperately wanted to have Tony and Sam back at the house.  
  
"What about Sunday?"  
  
"That's Valentine's day," Angela pointed out.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter that much, now does it?"  
  
"As long as we go away on Saturday for the night. I think I want to enjoy the last night we'll have as 'secret-us'." The wheels were already turning in Tony's head.  
  
"I think that'd be great." Angela considered what it would be like to no longer enjoy the privacy they had before.  
  
"I guess we should get off the phone," Tony began, wishing the conversation didn't have to end. "But sleep well, and I love you Angela."  
  
"I love you too," she whispered. "Sweet dreams."  
  
Hanging up the phone, they both considered the changes that would be fast approaching and all of the preparation they had to do.  
  
33***  
  
Tony paced back and forth between the stove and the dinner table. He had set everything in such a way that he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted it to be more than perfect...whatever that might be. As he double-checked the place settings and then reorganized the manner he had everything laid out.  
  
"You're awful fidgety tonight," Angela pointed out, as she stood from her place in front of the fire.  
  
"Only because tomorrow we tell the family," he said perhaps a little too quickly.  
  
Angela approached the table, breathing in the aroma of fresh bread and something tomato-y cooking in the oven. "If you're not sure..."  
  
"No!" Tony snapped. "It's not that I'm not sure...it's just..."  
  
"What?" It was her turn to be nervous, she realized. "What's wrong?"  
  
"There's something I want to talk to you about...and I wasn't sure tonight was the right night."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Come here," he said, leading her by her hand over to the sofa. When they were settled into their seats, Angela watched carefully for some sign of what was racing through his mind, more than a little alarmed.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm better than alright and maybe that's the problem."  
  
She looked at him, stunned and unsure of what was going on.  
  
"I love you so much that sometimes it hurts. I feel like I'm empty when I know I'm not going to see you for a few days, and I wish that I could just go home and take care of you. I hate knowing that you're on the other side of the county, and Sam and I are where we are...It seems so cruel to separate us for most of the week when it's not necessary..." Tony stumbled, wondering if he had started this discussion the wrong way. "I was going to wait until we had told the children. I thought that might make it easier on you and maybe on me too, I don't know. But I just don't think I can wait any more. I need you to have you beside me no matter what, for the rest of our lives, and I hope you want the same." Building his courage, Tony breathed in deeply. "I would be honoured," he said, reaching behind him and pulling out a velveteen box similar to the one from Christmas, only smaller, "if you would accept this ring as a symbol of my love, and would say yes to marrying me." The open box revealed a gold band with a princess cut diamond, flanked by two smaller ones.  
  
Angela felt tears overwhelm her. She hadn't expected this so soon, despite the conversations they had and the time he overheard his conversation with Marie, it was the last thing she had expected that night.  
  
When Angela didn't say anything, Tony wiped the tears out of her eyes and leaned in nearer to her. "If you're not ready, I'll understand...Really. I just...I wasn't sure I could wait much longer to ask you, but you don't have to answer now." Tony was kicking himself. He hadn't meant to upset her and that seemed to be the only thing he achieved.  
  
Angela closed the distance between them, her hands resting on his hips as she pressed a passionate kiss against his lips. Pressing her body against his, Angela moved in to gain better access to his mouth, tasting him and enjoying the feel of his body next to hers.  
  
Inching her mouth away from hers, she stood up and took his hand, leading him to the bed.  
  
"We, uh, don't..." Tony was having problems finding words to express himself.  
  
Raising her finger to his lips, Angela silenced him before pulling her sweater over head to reveal her lace clad breasts. She watched Tony's reaction, which was to suck in his breath and appraise her body, before she unzipped her pants and slid them over her hips.  
  
Moving towards Tony, Angela straddled his hips and pushed him back on the bed, until her body was covering his, allowing her to control the pace: a new experience for her.  
  
Sliding her hands up and under his sweater, Angela pressed the material upwards, revealing his stomach and chest and kissing her way over it, wondering if the sensations she was feeling were a part of being in control or being in love. Either way, she was more than happy to continue her exploration.  
  
Managing the sweater over his head, Angela gently dragged her hands down to his belt and slipped the little silver clip out of its hole and then moved the leather out of the loops. Her fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding it down and tugging the material over his hips.  
  
Leaning in for another kiss, Angela hoped that he wouldn't think she was doing this for the wrong reasons. The last thing she wanted was for this to end prematurely with someone being too rational.  
  
"I love you so much," she whispered, before kissing her way over his chest again, trying to memorize every detail and feature of his body.  
  
His hands found their way to her waist, and he hooked his fingers in the lace of her panties before nudging them over her hips. Tony then guided his hands up the soft curvatures of her body to her back, unclasping her bra and freeing her from her final scrap of clothing.  
  
There were no coherent thoughts left in his mind—everything he had anticipated about their first time making love had been wrong. This, he knew, was so much better.  
  
She divested him of his boxers quickly, and smiled when Tony appeared to be feeling modest about his newly naked state. Before he could become too consumed by their lack of clothing, she made her way back up his body and kissed him forcefully, her body pressing down on his as she straddled low on his stomach, near enough to feel his engorged member pressing against her thigh.  
  
"I love you," Tony said, finally piecing together the three words he knew he wanted to tell her, even if he had been at a loss of words otherwise.  
  
Angela smiled, and with that, she inched her way down his body, and slowly slid on to his penis. Her movements were almost painfully slow to Tony, as he felt the warmth and tightness of her body engulf him. When she had finally managed to take in his length, she began slow and rhythmic motions, enjoying the sensations that the connection evoked in her.  
  
Tony's hands made their way to her hips, and then to her stomach, enjoying the sight of her there with him. Leaning forward so Angela's legs were around his hips, Tony tenderly kissed her and gently palmed her breasts, enticing her nipples into pert peaks before he began to slowly suck on each one in turn.  
  
His lips found their way to her collarbone, and then further up to the spot behind her ear that smelled like Angela's shampoo. It was the same smell that he had grown to love in a matter of minutes, realizing that it was the easiest way to remember her when she wasn't around.  
  
In one fluid motion, Tony managed to roll them on the bed, never breaking their connection, and take control of their love making. As he gently thrust at first, he watched Angela's expression hoping for some sign of what she wanted from him.  
  
The flush of her skin in the dimly lit cabin was enough to send Tony to the brink, knowing that it was all real and that everything he was feeling was because it was Angela there with him.  
  
Feeling her clench around him, Tony felt himself explode as he continued to rock against her, and when he heard her gasp in her own orgasmic climax, he felt himself again surge into her.  
  
Their bodies stilled, slick with perspiration and both spent. He gently leaned forward, careful not to hurt her and kissed her passionately, his hands supporting his weight around her.  
  
Sliding away, and wincing at the lost of contact between them, Tony found a spot quickly beside Angela, his hand grazing the skin of her taut stomach before finding her hand and holding on to her.  
  
The silence of the night seemed perfect. There weren't any words to be said between them any more—their bodies had just communicated everything they had felt over the years, and despite their reservations, neither regretted their actions.  
  
Holding each other tightly, comfortable with the nakedness and the intimacy of the situation, Tony and Angela stayed in bed for hours, periodically shifting closer together and from time to time taking a moment to reassure themselves they were still there.  
  
As the night wore on, they made love several more times, and each time seemed to be more exceptional than the last, leaving them both exhausted but craving more, their appetites for each other insatiable.  
  
34***  
  
"Good morning," Angela whispered, unsure if his ever snugger grip was a hint of him waking up.  
  
"Mornin'," he said as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade. They hadn't let go of each other all night long, instead holding each other even as they slept. "Do you want coffee, or juice? Anything?"  
  
Rolling on to her side to face him, Angela grinned. "What if what I want isn't on the menu?"  
  
Tony leaned in and captured another kiss, his lips lingering a moment after they had finished, and then quickly tracing the outline of her jaw line with them.  
  
"See, that's a much better way to wake up than coffee," Angela pointed out.  
  
"I have to agree."  
  
Angela's hands made their way up behind Tony's neck, holding him closer.  
  
"Last night was really great," she commented, smiling.  
  
"It was more than great," Tony agreed. "Even if we didn't get to eat our dinner."  
  
Angela looked at him in mock hurt. "If you want, next time we can wait until after dinner, although I thought it was a pretty good substitution."  
  
"A very good substitution," he offered, before pressing another kiss to her chin.  
  
"I have to admit, I'm enjoying all this attention," Angela almost moaned, as his hands worked their way over her body and teased her.  
  
"I'm enjoying everything about this, and I'm making it my mission to kiss every part of you as often as possible," he told her, as he made his way further down her body and kissed his way over her breasts, only stopping to gently tease a soft nipple into pertness before continuing his exploration.  
  
As he traveled over her stomach, Tony's hands found their way to her hips and he smiled.  
  
"You are the most phenomenal woman in the world," he whispered against her skin, working his lips further down to the insides of her thighs and then to knees before making his way back up and parting her folds with his fingers. As Tony's tongue made its way over her clit, he corkscrewed one and then two fingers into her moist centre as Angela impulsively began to writhe beneath him.  
  
Tasting her and then continuing his efforts, Tony moved his fingers at a quickened pace, all the while placing gentle kisses over Angela's lower body and applying the most slight amount of pressure to her clit. As he felt her contract around his fingers, he thumbed the nub of flesh between his fingers and teased her, bringing her even closer to the brink, before adding another finger and watching her crash into orgasm.  
  
Placing featherlight kisses on each of her thighs before pressing one just above her folds, Tony worked his way back up her body.  
  
Angela's eyes were closed and her breathing was very fast. Taking his place beside her on the bed, Tony wrapped his arms around her, holding her body to his. She had rolled away from him, her back to his chest, before she placed her hands firmly on his and held them against her chest.  
  
"Are you okay," he asked concerned by the suddenly low state of conversation and the fact that she had turned away from him.  
  
"Yeah," she tried to assure him. She was trying to mask her tears, certain that no matter how great it had been to make love with Tony, the presence of tears would put a damper on the events.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, you're not okay, are you?" Sitting up and then scaling his way over her to the other side of the bed, Tony once again laid down beside her. "You're crying? What's wrong?" His fingers wiped at her tears, and he started to realize that they were all too often finding themselves wiping tears at intimate moments.  
  
"I've just...I've never felt so much for anyone, and I've never felt so loved, and I guess it makes me angry that we waited so long to get to this point." Angela bit her bottom lip as she thought about what other things she had to say. "I know this is probably a bad time to bring it up, but with Michael," she watched Tony cringe at the mention of her ex just after he had given her yet another crushing orgasm. "With Michael, everything was so thought out and premeditated that there was no spontaneity, and there was no passion: everything was so mechanical. And it seems like every other man I've ever been with was pretty much the same. There wasn't any thought of doing things like what you just did. Everything was missionary, everything was very sanitary...and it was just sex. Some of it was good. Some of it was very good. Some of it was really bad," she laughed. "But it just was. With you...with you I feel like it's so much more. I feel like...when we make love, it's amazing and it's so full of emotions. There aren't any men that I've ever been with that did what you just did for me, and I was too shy to ask."  
  
As uncomfortable as the situation seemed, Tony understood Angela's need to talk about it. That's what made their relationship different than any other, he thought: they talked about everything, regardless of how it might feel to have to say the words.  
  
"Well you shouldn't be angry," Tony said softly, as his hands found hers, "because it was all a step in getting here and it's helping us to understand how much of a great thing we have."  
  
Angela smiled, knowing that what Tony was saying was true. "We tell the family today," she pointed out.  
  
"We do. Do you want me to bring Sam over to the house and we'll all talk then?"  
  
"Yeah, that sounds good," she agreed. "And by the way...Yes."  
  
"To...?"  
  
"Yes, I will marry you," Angela smiled before pressing a kiss against his lips. "Now, we had better get showered and get ready because the longer we stay in this bed the more likely it is that we'll never leave it."  
  
Tony was beaming. "Wait! You've got to put on the ring," he said, as he dashed across the room to grab the small box, his mad race inciting a laugh from Angela. "Never laugh at a naked man running," Tony said in seriousness, "because if you crush his confidence, he might not be able to rise to the occasion at a later time."  
  
"I'm sorry," Angela said in her most serious tone, "I never realized it would be detrimental to my sex life, other wise I wouldn't have."  
  
"Ha ha." Sliding the ring on to her finger, Tony beamed. "This looks really good on you."  
  
"It does, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yep," he said, before kissing her again. "I love you."  
  
35***  
  
"Dad, I don't understand why we have to stop at Angela's before we go meet Catherine—that's only going to make it worse when I meet her, because I'm going to miss Angela even more." Sam crossed her arms in frustration wishing that her father would listen to her instead of forcing her to do something she didn't want to.  
  
It was bad enough knowing he had spent the night with her last night, and came home all chipper and cheery in the late afternoon. If he wanted to like this woman, maybe he shouldn't have been making his relationship quite so in her face.  
  
"Just be a good sport and do this for me, will you? I promise that eventually you'll hate me less than you do right now."  
  
"I don't hate you," Sam answered, a little offended. "I hate this woman that's breaking up our family."  
  
"Sam!" Tony was frustrated. He wanted to tell her the truth just so the drive over to the house would be easier, but he wasn't going to ruin a plan that he and Angela had worked so diligently on.  
  
The rest of the ride was in silence, while Sam considered the state of her nails, and Tony wondered what her reaction would be once she knew the truth.  
  
**  
  
"Mom, Jonathon, would you please stop behaving like children and actually come out of the kitchen?"  
  
Angela straightened her dress, and made sure her hair looked as good as possible. The last thing she wanted was to look like she tried too hard to impress them, but at the same time, this was a big deal.  
  
"Not until the yutz gets here," Mona called out.  
  
Angela hadn't seen her mother or son since the day before, and she was starting to wonder if they had any clue of the news she was going to tell them. If they had been around (and willing to see her) they would have noticed the ring on her finger that she couldn't have taken off if her life depended on it.  
  
"He's not...fine, whatever. You guys do what you need to do, and I'll just finish tidying up."  
  
It had been ages since Tony had been in the house, and Angela wanted the place to look respectable for their announcement. She had been racing around trying to clean up and make sure that his first urge wouldn't be to straighten the pillows.  
  
"Would you just get here," she mumbled to herself as she centered the vase on the table behind the couch. Glancing down at the ring on her finger, she smiled. "We're almost there," she said, hoping it would be enough encouragement to keep her from going out and sitting on the stoop waiting for him.  
  
**  
  
The ringing of the doorbell jarred Angela from her contemplative state. Instinctively, her heart began to beat faster.  
  
"Mother, Jonathon, come on, it's time. Get in here." Angela called into the kitchen before she walked to the door. Opening it, she was relieved to see Sam and Tony—this was the one time she couldn't bear to have a door to door salesman show up.  
  
"Hi," Angela said, hoping Tony could see her relief at his presence.  
  
"Hey Angela," Sam said, before wrapping her arms around the woman's waist. "I've missed you so much."  
  
Angela squeezed the girl, enjoying the embrace, and then looked up to Tony and tried to reassure him that things would be alright. Once they told the family, things would be easier, if not better. There would be no more need to sneak around, and there would be no reason to feel like they were lying any more.  
  
"Sam!" Jonathon rushed over to her, happy to see his friend there. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Dad and I are about to go meet his new girlfriend. But he wanted to stop here first." Sam whispered to Jonathon, trying to mask some of the contempt for Catherine that she was feeling.  
  
"Mom's new boyfriend is supposed to come over here—Grandma says he's a yutz." Jonathon kept his voice low, for fear of his mother hearing. He didn't want to get in trouble for calling the new man a yutz.  
  
"Tony!" Mona wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "It's been too long—I've missed you!"  
  
"I've missed you too Mon, it's not the same without you," Tony said sincerely.  
  
"Um, why don't we all sit down," Angela suggested, waiving her hand towards the couch.  
  
"Whoa, I see a diamond," Mona called out in absolute shock. The whole family turned towards Angela, directing their attention at her. "Let's see your left hand, Missy."  
  
Holding out her hand, Angela swallowed hard.  
  
"It's a beautiful diamond," Mona said in horror. "You're not marrying the yutz, are you?"  
  
"You're getting married?" Jonathon and Sam both remarked in unison, both more than a little scared looking.  
  
"Everyone, sit down, come on," Tony said as he corralled the family towards the sitting room.  
  
Getting as close to Tony as possible without starting any further rumors, Angela leaned in and whispered. "I tried to take it off, but I couldn't." She sounded almost sorry.  
  
"Don't worry," Tony reassured her. "It's all happening today anyway."  
  
Sam and Jonathon sat on the couch together, while Mona took the arm chair by the kitchen, and Tony stood between the couch and the chair while Angela took the armchair by the stairs. They had wanted to keep a respectable amount of space between them, even though it was killing them to be so far apart.  
  
"Here's the thing," Tony began. "I'm..."  
  
"No offense, Tony, but I'd like to know if my daughter really is marrying that yutz, and if she is, why she didn't tell us sooner." Mona's glare towards Angela was intense and more than a little frightening.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, back off for a moment, okay? Give us a chance to talk." Tony looked around the room and made sure everyone was staying in line.  
  
"I've been seeing him since November," Angela began, "and it really started out badly. Things looked like we weren't going to be able to make them work—there had been a hundred things misunderstood between us, and there were dozens of reasons we probably shouldn't have tried to make it work..." She sighed, wishing she didn't have to tell them this way; she would have preferred told them in some form of fun way, as opposed to this depressing and somewhat melodramatic way. "But we stuck it out and kept trying and if it wasn't for him, we probably wouldn't have made it, because he did so much to keep things together and to keep us together."  
  
"Get to the point," Mona grumbled.  
  
"Eh oh, back off, Mon, she's trying to tell you something and all you can do is give her trouble?" Tony looked ready to blow a gasket. Of the things he wouldn't tolerate, being rude to Angela and causing her pain were top of the list.  
  
"You know what Bub? I've heard stories about you, so I'd suggest you back off for a minute," Mona spit. She really couldn't contain her frustration with the situation much longer.  
  
Jonathon and Sam exchanged worried glances. This was turning into a war.  
  
"I didn't say anything about this sooner, because I didn't want to make waves around here unless I was certain," Angela continued. "But now things are certain, and I was hoping you'd be happy for me."  
  
"You're getting married again?" Sam asked sadly, seeing the constant in her life slipping away.  
  
"He proposed to me yesterday," Angela admitted, "and I said yes. I love him and I'm going to marry him."  
  
"Oh." Sam couldn't mask her disappointment. There was nothing she could say to Angela at that moment, because all she felt was contempt and anger.  
  
"We've been keeping something from you," Tony said, feeling the need to clear everything up sooner rather than later. "We've been seeing each other: Catherine and Morrie don't really exist." He was blunter than he had intended, but things were getting much too stressful to continue the way they were.  
  
"What do you mean Catherine and Morrie don't exist?" Mona looked between her daughter and Tony.  
  
"I mean, I'm Morrie, and Angela's Catherine, and we've been seeing each other."  
  
"We're getting married," Angela said, hoping for some kind of happiness from the family.  
  
Everyone looked dazed, shocked, and more than a little caught off guard.  
  
"You're marrying Angela, and you've let me be miserable about 'Catherine'?" Sam looked up at Tony, upset that her father lied to her.  
  
"I didn't want you to get hurt," Tony covered, not wanting to risk Angela having to deal with his daughter's wrath. "Things really didn't look like they'd work out between us at first—we were really confused and there were half a billion reasons why...I didn't want you to get your hopes up."  
  
"So instead you decided to hurt me and not tell me? You let me hate 'Catherine' and wish it was Angela—you knew that!" Sam looked between Angela and Tony. "And you, Angela, you were the one I talked to about all of this, and you never told me anything. I thought we were sisters?"  
  
"Sam, sweetheart, I love you so much and I knew that if we told you too soon...We were only trying to protect you." Angela moved over closer and knelt in front of Sam. "I know you've been hurting honey, and it's been killing us. Your father and I talked about it a lot, and we didn't want to hurt you any more by putting you through a relationship that might not work."  
  
"You and Tony are getting married," Jonathon asked, looking between his mom and Tony.  
  
"Yes, honey, we are. Do you think that will be alright?" Angela's heart sank; she was worried her son might not react as she had hoped.  
  
"Does that mean Tony and Sam will be moving back in?"  
  
"It does," Tony told him, before he sat down beside him on the couch. "What do you think? You okay with that?"  
  
Jonathon looked suddenly pensive. "I think I am," he said honestly. "Does that mean Sam's going to be my sister?"  
  
Angela and Tony exchanged quick glances, before Angela smiled. "Yeah, that's what it means. You'll be her little brother, Tony will be your step- father, and I'll be her step-mother."  
  
"What if I don't want you to be my step family?" Sam asked, her voice thick and heavy.  
  
Tony reached out and held Angela's hand before answering. "We're going to be a family, Sam, whether you are angry at us or not. Angela and I love each other, and it's been a long road, but we've finally come this far. I know that you are mad that we kept this from you, but maybe you could see the good in this?"  
  
When Sam didn't answer, Angela tried. "Sam, honey, I've thought of you as my daughter for so long now, I didn't see this as that much of a change—it just means things are more finalized. And we really just didn't want to hurt you, so don't be mad, please?"  
  
Sam looked between her father and Angela, before considering her answer. They really did seem happy, and Sam was very glad that Angela was going to be her stepmother as opposed to the fictitious Catherine.  
  
"Do you think we might be able to go for a walk?"  
  
Angela looked towards Tony, seeking some guidance. He obviously felt that it might be a good idea, because his eyes lit up.  
  
"Sure, why not? That will give your father a chance to update mother and Jonathon a bit too, and they can work things out." Standing and taking Sam's hand, they disappeared from the room.  
  
"So, Mona, you've been awfully quiet over there. You okay?"  
  
36***  
  
"How'd the walk go?" Tony had managed to corner Angela in the kitchen after she and Sam got back.  
  
"Really well," Angela admitted, glad that it had been a success. "We talked about what we were feeling, and what she was scared of. We talked about what would happen next, and what we wanted..."  
  
"Then things are okay? She doesn't hate us any more?"  
  
"She's not about to jump for joy, but I think she really is happy—she just can't let us know that, right?" Angela smiled as she poured herself a cup of tea. "How'd it go with Jonathon and mother?"  
  
"Well, Jonathon's happy that Sam and I will be back. I think he's still in a little bit of shock, because he doesn't seem to be processing it all yet—it's like, he knows we're coming back, he's just confused because it won't be the same as it was before." Tony sighed. "Your mother...she was a treat. Didn't say anything unless spoken to, and never once did she offer a multi-word answer. I think she's more hurt than anyone."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I think she's upset that you didn't tell her, and I didn't tell her, and that she had to find out with the kids." Tony sat down in the chair, before continuing. "I think it might be worth talking to her—just you and Mon."  
  
"Sounds like it," Angela agreed. "By the way, I wanted to thank you for your help earlier. You really were so supportive and wonderful."  
  
"Anytime," he grinned, before reaching for her hand. "I think we're going to need a day away soon, just to recover from all of this. Especially since I'm moving back into my old room, and we're going to be across a hall again."  
  
"Oh God," Angela gasped, "I hadn't thought about that part—do you have to?"  
  
"Well, don't you think the kids might figure out what's happening, if we're in the same room?"  
  
Angela thought about it for a moment. "Don't you think that if they're thinking of that, they already know from the number of nights we spent away?"  
  
Tony laughed. "We hadn't done anything until last night," he pointed out.  
  
"But they don't know that and I'm not inclined to tell them."  
  
"So I'm moving back into your room?"  
  
"Our room," Angela corrected. "In the meantime, you have to go give your notice at Mrs. Wallingford's, and I have to go make amends with my mother. Do you think Sam will be okay babysitting Jonathon, or are we asking for a rebellion?"  
  
"I think we'll be okay, and it'll give them a chance to talk it through—they'll figure out the details and they'll let us know how they feel."  
  
**  
  
"Knock, knock, knock," Angela said, as she pushed open her mother's door.  
  
"Did I say you could come in? I might be entertaining an anonymous man in here and not want you to know." Mona's voice was filled with sarcasm and anger.  
  
"May I come in?"  
  
"You're already in; it's too late to ask." Mona collapsed on to the couch.  
  
"You're not happy for me and Tony?" Taking a seat next to her mother, Angela leaned back.  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"Then you're angry at me?"  
  
"I'm glad the Ivey league taught you something. It sure as hell didn't teach you anything about consideration." Mona twirled a ring around her finger, watching the band make its rounds.  
  
Angela felt the pressure build in her chest, and she knew that although she should contain it, this was supposed to be a happy day for her, and it was turning out to be anything but. "I know you're hurt that I didn't tell you about Tony, and I know you feel like you deserve whatever insight into my life, but maybe you could remember that I deserve a chance to build relationships at my own pace. Telling you and living under a microscope until things either crashed and burned or got to this point...I had no intentions of doing that to us. Tony and I had enough to deal with, without trying to survive you interrogating us at every corner!"  
  
"Do you think I would have been that bad? Or do you just need to make excuses for your behaviour?" Mona's eyes narrowed as she spoke, reminding Angela of all those times as a child that her mother had intimidated her into submission.  
  
"YES! My answer is a resounding yes, you would have been that bad. You would have asked me questions, pressured me about having sex, and you would have pressured me about sneaking away!"  
  
"I would have supported you, too, you know."  
  
Angela looked at her, dumbfounded.  
  
"Contrary to popular belief, I'm only a bitch about those guys in your life I don't like, because I honestly believe you deserve better, but I love Tony, and I think he is incredible for you, and I wish...I wish you would have let me enjoy this with you, because this is what I had been wanting for you for ever...I wanted to be there when you came home from your first date, good or bad, and I wanted to assure you that things would get better. I wanted to tell you that I liked seeing you so happy. But you took that away from me. You made it impossible for me to be there for you. So yes, I'm pissed, and I've earned it!"  
  
Angela was stunned. She couldn't remember such an impassioned argument from her mother ever before, nor could she imagine what it must have done to Mona to be left out in the dark for so long.  
  
"I'm sorry," Angela said, genuinely. "I really am. I was being selfish, I guess, but I honestly believed that I had earned the right to keep this to myself. If I couldn't have this one thing for myself, then there wasn't anything left. I'm sorry."  
  
Mona moved closer to Angela, taking her hand in hers and reexamining the ring. "It's a nice ring. A really nice ring. And I have to admit that it looks good on you. I never pictured you as a multi-diamond engagement ring kind of woman."  
  
Angela laughed. "Neither did I, but when Tony gave it to me...I couldn't help it. I wanted it so badly. Not the ring, but everything about it. Sappy, eh?"  
  
"Yeah, well that's my darling daughter. You're a sap, and I know that will never change." Mona laughed. "So have you slept with him yet?"  
  
"Mother," Angela exclaimed in mock anger.  
  
"It's a perfectly legitimate question."  
  
"Last night," Angela confessed, giddy with the conversation. She had to admit that she had missed being able to speak so openly with her mother.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And that's all you're getting." Angela laughed. "It was amazing though."  
  
"I'd believe it—I've seen him bench-press the couch." Mona grinned. "When did he propose?"  
  
Angela grinned nervously. "Do you really want to know?"  
  
"I asked, didn't I?" Mona wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.  
  
"Last night. I accepted this morning though."  
  
Mona laughed mischievously. "Ah, I see. It must have been good if it got you to commit for life."  
  
Angela blushed. "So, are we going to be okay?"  
  
"Yeah, we're going to be better than okay," Mona said happily, "But in future I expect to be kept aware of what's happening. No more keeping me in the dark, okay?"  
  
"Deal." Angela couldn't help but feel ecstatic. "I have to admit, I missed being able to tell you about things. And the first time Tony took me to the cabin, I wanted to come home and tell you about it..."  
  
"The cabin?" This had peaked Mona's curiosity.  
  
"Yeah, it's this cabin that Tony owns—it was a gift from Nick to Tony and Marie as a wedding present. It's the most beautiful little place in the world."  
  
"And he's been taking you there?"  
  
"Yes. That's the only place we go any more. It's a chance for us to be alone and away from all of the stress, and it really is a beautiful cabin."  
  
"You're ok with going some where that was Tony and Marie's?" That was a side of her daughter that Mona had not anticipated. In fact, she had never expected her daughter to be that accepting and confident.  
  
"At first it was a little strange, but there was something about it that made it all better—it was like Tony had never really gone there with Marie, and when he had...It was just different. If Tony's there, I'm comfortable." Angela sighed. "I do worry though, because Sam doesn't know it exists, and if she finds out that we've been hiding this from her, and then that Tony and I have been spending nights up there...so this is a secret until Tony and I figure something out, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Mona agreed. "You know, I have to admit, you've come a long way from the Angela I used to know."  
  
"I've grown up, and I'm in love," Angela smiled. "And I have the most wonderful fiancé ever."  
  
37***  
  
"Sam?" Knocking on the door of her room, Tony wondered how far she had come with the packing, and if he had to help her. These certainly were different days then the ones when they moved from Brooklyn to Connecticut in their van, all of their earthly possessions in the back.  
  
"Come in," she called back, busying herself with work to do.  
  
"You've made progress," Tony chuckled, impressed that her book shelf was already cleared and the desk seemed to be emptied of its contents.  
  
"I try. You told me it had to be done by this weekend, and that's what I'm doing." Sam never looked up, she just kept moving about the room, packing anything she saw that was hers along the way.  
  
"You're still pretty mad at me, huh?"  
  
"I'm a little," she admitted. "But only because you kept this from me. You never used to keep secrets from me. Never, and it seems like there are so many secrets lately."  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, there aren't that many secrets. This is the only one. I swear." Tony crossed his chest like in prayer and sat down on the bed. "Sam, I never meant to hurt you, but you know why Angela and I did what we did, and you've forgiven Angela, so the only question left is if you'll forgive me."  
  
"I have to torture you for awhile," Sam noted, as if stating a fact of life. "And I expect you to fill me in on stories of what it's like dating Angela. You used to tell me stories about all the other women you dated...at least with them I knew what you were doing."  
  
Tony smiled at how much she sounded like a parent. In some ways, he thought, Sam had been more of a parent figure than he had been at points.  
  
"Well, do you have time for some stories now?" Tony made a mental note to leave certain points out—just omissions, he decided, no lies.  
  
"I can fit you in," Sam said before plunking down on the bed beside him.  
  
"Angela's lousy at snow ball fights. And the white jacket she wears makes her blend in with the snow, so she's almost impossible to hit...until you hear this excited laughter—then you know where to aim." Tony chuckled at the memory of their first snow ball fight, and what it was like to grab her in his arms and tackle her to the ground, wrestling in the cold but wonderfully soft snow.  
  
"I can't imagine Angela letting you play in the snow," Sam confessed. "I thought she'd be too worried about getting cold or wet."  
  
Tony smiled inwardly, remembering how they had laid on the couch in front of the fire, wrapped around each other, and enjoyed the sensations of being together. That, he decided, was something to omit.  
  
"She's a lot more fun once you get her involved in something—it takes a bit of convincing, but it's worth it."  
  
"Angela's a lot of fun," Sam said thoughtfully, reminding herself why she loved the woman so much. "Even if she's a little up tight."  
  
That was enough to draw a laugh out of Tony. "We're working on her, remember? She's loosening up and relaxing, just give her time...Do you forgive me yet?"  
  
Looking at her father, Sam debated her answer. She wasn't really that upset with him, as much as she was watching him stew over his actions, and she hoped he'd never hide anything from her again, but then again she also knew that she loved him too much to make him feel bad for something that really made her quite happy. "If I say you're forgiven, you're not going to get all sappy on me and start dancin' or anything, are you?"  
  
Tony grinned.  
  
"Okay, I'm not gonna say it, but yeah." Sam smiled. "Now go do something useful so I can finish packing."  
  
"Alright, well thank you," Tony said, trying to contain his happiness.  
  
"Hey Dad?"  
  
"Yeah sweetie?"  
  
"Do you think that we're really going to be a family?"  
  
"Of course," Tony said, "Angela and I love you and Jonathon more than anything else in the world, and we love each other so much...we've got enough love to make it work."  
  
38***  
  
"This is the last box," Tony called, as he pushed the door closed with his foot and made his way up the stairs.  
  
The upper floor was abuzz with activity as everyone worked towards unpacking the boxes he had brought in. "Sam's room," he read off, before placing it in the door way.  
  
"Another one?" Jonathon whined at the appearance of another box.  
  
"Yep yep. Sam is a clothes fiend. Sorry to tell you that."  
  
"That's okay," Jonathon said in an almost blasé tone. "She collects clothes, I collect insects. It's a fair trade."  
  
Tony laughed at the disgusted look on Sam's face. "He's right honey, it's only fair."  
  
Angela listened to the exchange from her room, enjoying the sound of laughing and the sound of everyone helping each other out. This had been what she wanted all along, and it only took a returning distant husband to make it happen.  
  
"Hey, how are you feelin'?" Tony asked as he pushed past boxes in her doorway. He couldn't help but notice that she had been less active than normal, spending more time reading books than joining him on jogs. When Angela just shrugged, he decided to change the topic. Obviously she wasn't comfortable talking about her health at that precise moment. "How's it going? Were you able to make enough space in the closet for me to hang up a dress shirt, or am I banished to my old room?"  
  
Throwing her arms around him possessively and gazing up at him Angela laughed. "You're staying right here, buddy."  
  
"Ohh, possessive," Tony teased. "I could get to like this." Leaning in for a quick kiss, Tony quickly allowed himself to deepen it, his arms wrapping around her and snuggly holding her hips to his.  
  
"Ahem," Sam cleared her throat in the doorway. "You two...You both know the rules and if we have to over them again..." Her smile undermined her stern tone. "I was just going to ask if Jonathon and I could go to Marcy's to swim."  
  
"Will you be back for dinner?" Angela asked, straightening her shirt.  
  
"As long as we get to leave sometime in the next three hours," Sam teased.  
  
"And you'll watch out for Jonathon?" Tony eyed his daughter, proud that she was willing to spend time with Jonathon outside of the house.  
  
"Yeah. And if we try to drown him, Marcy's dad will be there." Sam grinned. "So can we?"  
  
Tony shook his head and then called after her. "Just remember to call if you're not going to be home for dinner."  
  
"We will," the kids replied in unison. Tony and Angela could hear them running down the steps and then a moment later slamming the door shut behind them.  
  
"We're alone," Angela said, threading her fingers through Tony's hair as she pressed nearer to him.  
  
"We are," he said, as he kissed her.  
  
"Do you think we have time to take advantage of being home alone?" Angela grinned, moving back towards the bed and playing with the hem of her shirt. She dragged it up a few inches, revealing her flat, toned stomach, and then halted her actions. "Or do you think maybe I should just finish clearing out drawers." Her fingers opened and dropped the material, covering her skin.  
  
"You can not do something like that and then decide maybe not," Tony teased, making his way over to her and grasping the material. He searched her eyes, seeking permission to continue his mission.  
  
Taking his hands in hers, Angela smiled. "You're right." Leading their fingers up under the material, Angela pulled the sweater over her head and smiled when Tony sucked in his breath. "I hope you always feel like that," she remarked truthfully.  
  
He looked at her blankly for a moment, wondering what she meant.  
  
"I hope you always look at me and need to catch your breath," Angela said, smiling. Her hands managed to work him out of his shirt, and landed the material on the floor. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, Angela couldn't stop her heart from beating at what felt like no less than a million miles a second. "And I hope that you always make me feel like I'm going to burst if I'm not near you."  
  
Tony's hands gently caressed her back, sliding up to unclasp her bra. "We're gonna be just like this forever," he assured her, his hands leading the bra straps over her shoulders and to the ground to join his shirt. "We were meant to be together, and this is what we were meant to have." Gently palming her breasts, Tony pressed another kiss to her collarbone.  
  
He felt Angela's hands push his jeans over his hips and he felt her fingers lift the edge of his boxers. He was already hard, and he could feel his erection twitch with anticipation of more contact with her.  
  
When her hands had stripped him of his boxers as well, Angela pushed down her own pants, wanting to be free of them, and then removed the last piece of material between them. "You promise you'll always want to make love to me? Even when I'm old and unattractive?"  
  
"You could never be anything but beautiful," Tony said with the utmost sincerity, thankful that he had finally made it to the woman he loved, and that they shared a connection as deep as they did.  
  
Laying back on the bed, Angela watched as Tony began his mission to kiss his way over her body, impressed that he could be such a slow and passionate lover, despite his obvious discomfort.  
  
Closing her eyes, she let all of the sensations wash over her and she imagined what it would be like to have this for the rest of her life, without fail. When he gently pressed into her, she instantly felt complete, gasping for breath at the sensation.  
  
"Are you okay," he asked, not wanting to go any further if she were in pain or uncomfortable.  
  
Not opening her eyes, Angela smiled, her hands pulling him into her further, knowing she couldn't master coherent thought if she tried.  
  
39***  
  
Sorting the laundry, Tony smiled. Gone were the days when Angela had to wash her own 'dainties' and finally there seemed to be a natural order to their lives. He helped out at the Bower Agency at every opportunity, and still maintained the house as well as the cars. He took the kids to practices, and to their friends' house, and occasionally he would do things around the neighbourhood with the other stay at home moms.  
  
To most other people, it probably wouldn't have proved very fulfilling, but Tony knew he had everything he needed right there in that house, and anything else he wanted, he could have—he'd just have to plan for it.  
  
He'd thought about going back to college. Since he met Angela, it was something he had toyed with—the idea of bettering himself with official documentation seemed like an appealing thought. It wasn't so much that he felt inferior as he felt like he could do so much more.  
  
"Hey Bub, where's my laundry," Mona asked teasingly, before gracefully sitting down in the chair by the kitchen.  
  
"It's probably on some guy's floor," Tony said, an evil glimmer in his eye.  
  
Mona tried to act shocked or appalled but she just couldn't manage it. She liked this mischievous banter with Tony, and she had missed it when he wasn't around.  
  
"But if you ever find it, I guess I'll do it for you."  
  
"Thanks, bub." She winked at him, before returning her attention to his folding. "You happy?"  
  
The quizzical look on his face worried her a bit, before she realized he genuinely didn't understand what she meant.  
  
"Things are good between you and Angela?"  
  
"They're better than good, Mon, it's like...It's like we're finally right for the first time in years. It's like we've finally made it to where we're supposed to be." He smiled, and kept folding, thankful for whatever he did to deserve such love in his life.  
  
"You're hooked," she grinned, not surprised that someone could feel such affection for Angela, but surprised that he finally clued in.  
  
"I'm pretty badly hooked, yeah," he admitted, more than a little pleased by the circumstances.  
  
"She's gone all gaga for you too," Mona pointed out, trying to be sickeningly sweet almost.  
  
"Jeez, Mon, maybe I'll pass her a note in study group." Tony felt a little silly with the course of their conversation. If any one could know, Mona should understand how far they've come to get there.  
  
"It's just that I like seeing my little girl like this, and I like seeing you like this. It's a very rewarding thing."  
  
"I'm just sorry I made getting to this point so difficult. I wish we could have made it here before and it just didn't happen—that's my fault." He was more or less done beating himself over the ineptitudes of his actions in the past, but he still felt regret. There was no way around that. He could have been the one holding Angela for all those months, and instead, he had barely spoken to her for ages.  
  
"Have you started making wedding plans?"  
  
"Not yet," Tony said, sighing. "I know that Angela's going crazy at the agency, and I don't want to put much more pressure on her right now—I feel like she deserves a break. But don't worry; I'm not going to let her forget."  
  
Mona couldn't help but feel giddy—for once in her daughter's life things were finally going well, and she knew that she could trust in Tony to keep it that way.  
  
40***  
  
Softly closing the door, Tony made his way into the bedroom.  
  
He wasn't used to seeing Angela taking naps in the mid-afternoon, and the idea that she might be feeling under the weather was motivation enough for him to go up and join her. There was no way to deny that he liked to be close to her, and he couldn't even deny that he needed to be close to her, so he just made the best of it.  
  
Pulling back the sheets, Tony shed his jeans and his sweater, leaving his boxers and undershirt untouched before he climbed into the bed, and in behind her.  
  
"You're lousy at being quiet," Angela teased, as she rolled from her side on to her back and looked up at him.  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized genuinely. "I just wanted to come and keep you company...maybe see how you were doin'."  
  
Smiling, Angela considered how lucky she was to have a man who would be worried about her when she took a nap, and who would want to take care of her even if she wasn't feeling a little under the weather. "I'm glad you came up."  
  
"You're not sorry I woke you?"  
  
"I wasn't really asleep—I wasn't feeling well to start," Angela sighed, "so I was just resting more than anything. You know how it goes."  
  
Tony looked at her, his eyes fully betraying how 'cool and collected' he was trying to be. He pressed his hand to her forehead and when he noticed she was running a bit of a temperature, he stroked the hair away from her face. "Is there anything I can do that will make you feel better?"  
  
"Stay here with me?" Angela's voice seemed almost childlike and pleading.  
  
"Of course I will. The kids have gone to a matinee, they're babysitting Mona, and I've cleared my schedule for the rest of the day so I can take care of you." Pulling the blankets up over his hips, Tony settled in beside her, his arm tentatively resting on her stomach.  
  
"You can touch me, you know, I'm not going to break. I'm just stressed to the max right now, and that seems to be enough to keep me feeling defective." Angela placed her arm on top of his, determined to keep him there and holding her.  
  
"Can I help make things any more stress free? If you want, I'll pick up some work at the agency, and then you can be free to worry about other things, or to maybe even rest a bit?" The hopeful expression on his face made Angela feel guilty for even having brought up the 'stress factor' but she was more than certain that all of her problems would be solved or at least lessened by a little help.  
  
"You're too good for me," Angela whispered, as she shifted closer to him.  
  
"You got it all wrong," Tony told her, as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm the lucky one here."  
  
"You'd really pick up more work, even if it meant helping me at the agency?"  
  
"Especially then," Tony said quietly, his fingers drawing small patterns on her hip bone. "I can't imagine anything I'd rather do than have another excuse to spend time with you. Even if it means being at work with you."  
  
Angela smiled. "You know, we could take long lunches again, given that we'd be working together in the same building." There was a gleam in her eye that was all too familiar.  
  
"When you said that the agency had a great benefits package, you weren't kidding, were you?" Tony grinned.  
  
41***  
  
Angela sat behind her desk, absolutely frazzled. Somewhere in the course of twenty-four hours, she had managed to lose a major client, and have one on the verge of walking. That was all she knew, and of all things, being out of control or out of the 'know' did not sit well with Angela Bower.  
  
She felt exhausted, having been working too much the past weeks, and not resting enough, and she knew that eventually, Tony would make her slow down—she wouldn't be able to convince him that she was okay.  
  
The exhaustion she had credited merely to the late nights, and the nonstop bickering amongst her staff. There seemed to be confusion over who was in charge of what department and whose responsibilities were what.  
  
Tony had driven into the city almost every night, not wanting her to have to take the train alone; Mona had taken to leaving work right at five and Angela rarely got out before nine or ten, leaving her to find her own way home.  
  
"Angela, Tony on line two," Mona buzzed into the office interior before clicking off.  
  
Angela smiled, pleased that he checked up on her and made sure she wasn't having the worst possible day.  
  
"Hey," she softly spoke into the phone.  
  
"How are you doin'?" Tony asked, glad to hear her voice. The morning seemed like such a long time ago.  
  
"I'm alright. A little tired, and more than a little confused—it is strange coming into work and finding things completely different than when I left them." Angela toyed with a file folder, her fingers moving over the papers' edges.  
  
"What happened?" His voice was thick with concern.  
  
"We lost the sun chip account to Wallace and McQuade, and I lost an employee to their California office. I'm thinking these weren't two completely unrelated acts."  
  
Tony sighed. She took her business personally and rightfully so. It was her name outside the building and her reputation that had brought clients on board. Angela had built Wallace and McQuade's strong reputation in the years prior and now she was in cut throat competition with them—it hardly seemed fair.  
  
"Do you think that there are any other spies on board?"  
  
"Probably. I'm going to be doing some weeding out and hopefully that will solve some problems around here," she said pensively. Her day was just going ferociously bad, and even despite that, he managed to make her feel better.  
  
"You'll get that place back into shape in no time," Tony said confidently, although he had his doubts that she'd be able to get it back up and running without some rest and relaxation first—all of the things which needed to be done would require extensive work, and there was a point at which she needed a break.  
  
"I hope so," Angela said, doubtful of her abilities to run a company any more. "Do you think we might be able to go to the cabin this weekend?"  
  
Tony's jaw dropped at her question, shocked that she'd consider taking time off and away without any of his help in the matter. She was usually so stubborn about even leaving on time at night, that a voluntary block of time off concerned him.  
  
"You feeling alright?" He asked in all sincerity and concern, however the comment sounded sarcastic.  
  
"I'm fine," Angela replied, before realizing she had snapped. "I'm sorry...I'm fine, really, I just want some time alone with you, and I want you to ravish me for a couple days, and I want to come back gloriously exhausted," she said romantically.  
  
"How could I say no to that? Why would I want to, even?" Already formulating a plan of action, Tony smiled. "Do you think this weekend is too soon?"  
  
Angela looked over the stacks of paper on her desk and the abundance of work she had left unchecked. "Yeah, this weekend would be great."  
  
"I'll make the plans," Tony's voice was soft and sweet. "Don't let work overwhelm you too much, and maybe tonight we'll talk about whatever else is bothering you."  
  
"I love you," Angela said, wishing she didn't have the urge to cry—he really was so sweet to her and sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if she deserved him.  
  
"I love you too," he assured her, before hanging up the phone and putting his plan into action.  
  
42***  
  
It became a weekly ritual: for one night of the week, Tony and Angela would go to the cabin and spend the night. Mona would watch the kids, and Angela would do a half day at work the next day, allowing her a chance to sleep in and enjoy the cabin's relaxing atmosphere.  
  
Tony would make his way to the grocery store before they were supposed to leave, and he'd buy fresh foods to take.  
  
This week, he had planned for a new addition to the cabin's standard fare.  
  
He had packed an extra pair of jeans, a pair of nice slacks, and a couple of shirts as well as extra boxers to be left at the cabin, and then he prepared some 'extras' to be left for Angela. This way, they could just flea when necessary, he thought.  
  
"You packing again?" Sam stood in the doorway of Angela and Tony's bedroom.  
  
"I'm just making sure Angela and I have enough clothes if ever we need or want extra," Tony said, looking up.  
  
"Where do you guys go all the time?" She couldn't help being curious, although she had to admit where they went was the last thing she worried about—as long as Angela and her father were together, Sam felt confident that they'd be okay.  
  
More than anything, Sam was worried that her father might be secretive about it, which would only further feed her curiosity.  
  
"We go to a cabin," Tony said, deciding it wasn't worth hiding it any more. Sam would have to know sometime any way, and now was as good a time as any.  
  
Sam looked at him, perplexed. Of all the places she expected to hear, that wasn't on the list.  
  
"It was a cabin that your grandpa Nick gave to your mom and me." Tony watched his daughter for a change of expression, and perhaps a little anger.  
  
"I didn't know we owned a cabin," Sam said, her eyes narrowing.  
  
"I didn't tell you—that's why you didn't know. I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it...I almost sold it a dozen times, at least, and then I would decide to keep it..."  
  
Sam looked at him, trying to decipher all of what he was saying. "So you and Angela have been going there?"  
  
"Yeah," Tony said. "It's been our chance to get to know each other better when we first started dating—it made our relationship a lot easier because we had a place totally of our own. And it was a way for us to build our relationship." Tony intently watched Sam for some sign of a reaction. "Are you mad at me for not telling you?"  
  
Sam thought for a moment. "I'm upset you didn't tell me that we had a cottage, and I wish you had taken me there, but I'm glad that you shared it with Angela. I bet it means a lot to her."  
  
"You've grown up so much, Sam, sometimes it's hard to believe you're still the baby girl I bounced on my knee at the Rossini's." Tony beamed proudly at her, shaken by how well she had taken his admission.  
  
She just smiled at him, betraying her emotions somewhat and letting Tony see just how hurt she really was.  
  
"How about you and I go up there sometime, and I'll tell you some stories about when your mom and I would go away—I bet you'd love it there."  
  
Taking her father's hand in hers, Sam nodded. "I think I'd really like that," she admitted.  
  
43***  
  
Angela closed her eyes and hoped that the sense of dizziness would pass. She knew she shouldn't have skipped lunch, but the idea of eating something had repulsed her more than the idea of feeling as ill as she was.  
  
Everything in the room had been spinning for about a half hour, and she couldn't open her eyes again for fear of being sick.  
  
Pushing back her chair and resting her feet on the desk, Angela wondered how long she would feel horrible. It had been a few months now that she had been battling something or other, and whatever it was, it didn't seem to be giving up.  
  
Her most recent 'vacation' to the cottage for the long weekend didn't seem to help much, other than proving to be remarkably fun. She and Tony had managed to spend most of the weekend wrapped around each other or making love, and the time they spent out of bed was spent relaxing in the hot tub, talking.  
  
Angela had been reluctant to leave, afraid that by making a departure from paradise she'd be losing something or other—something she couldn't identify. By Monday afternoon, when Tony was packing up their things and doing a load of sheets in the wash, Angela wanted to cry at the loss of their time together; when would they be able to sneak away again? Granted, they would still make their day trips up, but those weren't the same—there was a greater sense of urgency to everything when they went up for the night, as opposed to when they would go for a lovely long weekend.  
  
Returning to work, Angela found herself a little more relaxed than she had been for quite a while, but no better physically. The strain on her body from having been working so much and from all of the changes in her life seemed enough to keep her struggling for some sense of wellness.  
  
And now she was sitting in her chair, leaning as far back as possible with her eyes closed, and she felt incredibly ill.  
  
"You okay?" She hadn't expected Mona to come into the office. It was well after five, and the fact that she was still around shocked Angela.  
  
"I'm fine," Angela said feebly, willing her self to sit up and open her eyes. It took a moment for the message to make the trip between her brain and her eyes.  
  
Slowly opening her lids and leaning forward, Angela watched the world go dark and felt her body go limp.  
  
"Angela?" Mona slipped into panic. Something had just happened, and she had no clue what that something was.  
  
***  
  
"Bower Residence," Tony said, balancing the phone between his shoulder and his ear, dusting the table with a multicolor dust rag.  
  
"Tony," Mona's voice sounded weak and like she had been crying.  
  
"Mon? What's wrong?" He shifted in to panic mode; there was only one person left unaccounted for, and if something had happened to Angela, he wasn't sure how he'd deal with it.  
  
"Um, I'm at NYC General...I had to bring Angela in."  
  
Tony's heart sank. He had known something was wrong for days, but he'd let things go and he'd not made her go into the doctor. The fact that she was now in the hospital was his fault, he concluded.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I don't know...I was in her office, and she was resting with her eyes closed. I spoke to her, she replied...when she went to get up, she passed out or something."  
  
"Is she awake now?"  
  
"I don't know," Mona said, unable to swallow the sob. "They've taken her in for tests and I haven't seen her since."  
  
Tony looked at his watch. "I'm gonna meet you there—I'll get there as soon as I can, and then we'll talk about all this," he reassured her, but he wondered if he could withstand going to the hospital to see the woman he loved. He'd done that once already, and she never came out.  
  
44***  
  
"Sam!" Tony hung up the phone and put the duster down on the table, racing over to his jacket.  
  
"Yeah?" The young girl appeared at the top of the stairs.  
  
"Watch Jonathon, okay? If I don't get back before it's time for school tomorrow...make sure Jonathon gets ready and gets off okay." Tony never once looked up, instead looking around frantically for his keys, and making sure he had everything he would need. The urge to pack an overnight bag for Angela hit him, but staying away a moment longer also seemed too great of a problem.  
  
"What's wrong?" She had never seen her father so panicked, and it scared her to no end. Tony was always the calm and collected one—the one who would keep all the pieces together, but if his current state was to say anything, Sam felt certain he was losing control.  
  
"I have to go into the city to deal with some things. Mona will be home later." Pulling the door shut behind him, he hoped that he hadn't scared her too much, but he couldn't deal with his own emotions at this point without risking falling into an emotional black hole.  
  
This entire situation was all too reminiscent of a time not that long passed.  
  
The drive to the hospital was a blur. All he could think about was Angela in a hospital bed somewhere, sick from something he hadn't really known much about. Tony felt horribly guilt ridden for not having forced Angela into a doctor weeks ago, when she was still apparently functional. Now...  
  
He kicked himself for thinking like that. There was no reason to assume the worst, even though that's all that kept running through his stream of consciousness.  
  
Pulling into the hospital, and trying to find a parking spot, he realized he had taken the van instead of the jag, which he had intended. It felt eerily like the last days of Marie's life—pulling the big blue fish van up to the hospital and trying to park it when all he really wanted to do was be inside, holding the woman he loved.  
  
Somehow he had managed a parking spot and climbed out, racing into the emergency area.  
  
Normally he would have looked for Mona at the nurses' station, certain that she'd be clinging to a doctor or a handsome intern, but this time he searched the orange plastic seats for the fiery red head, and he found her, sitting with her hands tightly gripping each other.  
  
"Mona!" Racing over, he knelt in front of her.  
  
She threw her arms around him, relieved to see him there and to know that there was now an extra support system in place. "She's still in having tests run and they're getting a room ready for her, I guess."  
  
Tony looked around the waiting area, absorbed in all of the people there, and how many of them appeared almost indifferent to their surroundings. "Do you know anything yet?"  
  
"The nurse told me she was still unconscious, and she asked me to fill out a medical record form. I'm so scared Tony," Mona said, biting back tears. "I'm so scared that I couldn't remember her birthday to fill it out."  
  
"I know Mon," Tony said, taking her hand. "We'll all get through this okay, really. Just...we need to stay strong for her."  
  
Rocking her back and forth in his embrace, Tony tried to drown out the sights and sounds that reminded him all too much of a trip he had made to the very same hospital many years before.  
  
45***  
  
"Mrs. Robinson," a stout blonde haired nurse called, looking around the waiting room.  
  
"Yes?" Mona practically leapt to her feet.  
  
"We've got your daughter set up in a room, and we're just waiting on a few more test results, so if you'd like to go see her, I could show you where she is." The blonde waited a moment. "If you'd rather wait until all the results are in, I can have someone come and get you then."  
  
"No," Tony nearly yelled. Waiting to see Angela was definitely out of the question. He needed to see her and make sure she was really alright.  
  
Mona took his hand. "We'd like to see my daughter now," she managed, before following after the nurse.  
  
Tony trailed behind, trying to sort through all of the feelings he was having as much as he was trying to build up his courage. Neither of the tasks were proving to be easy, leaving him feeling remarkably naked.  
  
"She's in here," the nurse said, pointing to a room. "The doctor should be along shortly with all of Mrs. Bower's test results."  
  
Tony cringed at the nurse's words.  
  
Opening the door, he walked towards the bed, noting the dimmed lights and the sterile smell. Angela would hate this room, he thought, making a mental note to go buy some flowers and whatever else might cheer the room up.  
  
"She looks so pale," Tony remarked, before collapsing into a chair at Angela's bedside. "She looks so pale and fragile," he said, wondering how oblivious he had been.  
  
Mona sat on the edge of the bed, taking Angela's other hand in hers. "Tony and I are here, honey, and we're really worried about you."  
  
When Angela didn't reply, Tony bit back his tears. "This reminds me of losing Marie," he said quietly, "and I can't do this again—I won't lose Angela like this."  
  
Mona looked across the bed at a man who she had always expected to be invincible, only to see that he was very human, and very shattered.  
  
"I never talk about losing Marie," he whispered, "'cause sometimes I think it's better to let people believe what they want to, but I can't do it right now. This is too much like it was then, except this time I chose to ignore the signs. With Marie there was no warning."  
  
Tony squeezed Angela's hand. "Madonna mia, there were no signs then. Even with being on the road all the time, and being between games...I checked in with her every day and I talked to my girls without fail. She was healthy, she said. She sounded healthy. And I didn't know of any reason to think anything else. Then one day Mrs. Rossini calls me. I was playing an away game," his tears were now flowing freely, "and I was in Charlotte. She calls me and says 'Ton, you gotta come home,' and I thought she was joking. I laughed. Then she told me she was serious. She said that something happened; she didn't know what, but that I had to get home and see Marie. I got the first flight back, and as soon as I could, I got to the hospital...I got here," he explained. Mona could barely contain her own tears at his tender recount of what happened. "I got to the hospital, and I found out what room she was in, and she looked so...pale. Marie looked so different than when I'd left her. And there was Mrs. Rossini, telling me that Sam was taken care of and not to worry. And all I could think about was my wife, laying in a hospital bed, looking so broken and pale." Tony sighed. "When the doctor came in, he told me she had a brain tumour. There had been a clot and it was pressing down on her brain. He said it was inoperable, and that it was only a matter of time before her body shut down completely." Wiping his tears with the back of his hand, he stared down on Angela. "He said that she would never wake up; she was in a coma, and she was never going to come out of it...And she didn't."  
  
"Tony," Mona made her way around the bed to wrap her arms around him. "Angela's not dying," she tried feebly to reassure him. "She's too stubborn to give up, and she's too devoted to the family you're building. She'll be okay." The words were meant to provide her with some degree of comfort as well, although they were failing miserably.  
  
The sound of the door opening shocked them both, making them jump. "Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you might like the results of Mrs. Bower's tests," the graying man with the clipboard said, before realizing that he had forgotten something. "I'm Doctor Young," he said, before offering his hand to first Mona and then Tony. "I've been attending to Angela."  
  
Tony looked between Angela and Doctor Young before finally giving in. "What's wrong with Angela, doc?"  
  
"Well, it seems to be a combination of several factors that are overwhelming her body. Firstly, her blood pressure is extremely high, which by it self wouldn't worry us as much as it does now, considering her condition."  
  
Tony and Mona exchanged worried glances at the use of 'her condition'.  
  
"Secondly, her iron levels are extremely low—she clocked at 11, when the average person is expected to run at anything above 40, but usually between 40 and 80. All of her iron is bypassing her, leaving her with out any thing to function on, and from what we can tell it seems to be much the same for other nutrients." Doctor Young opened her chart. "Now, what we really need is the name of Angela's attending physician. There are signs of something called preeclampsia and although we can't really use many medications to treat her right now, we can certainly determine what can be done to make her more comfortable for the duration."  
  
"What do you mean her condition?" Tony stared at the doctor intently, hoping for some glimmer of hope.  
  
"Well, considering that she's pregnant, we don't feel comfortable using traditional medications to treat her hypertension, or her anemia. Instead, we're going to do a saline drip first, and then some follow up with some basic prenatal pills." The doctor wrote something on her chart, as if he just remembered something for his grocery list.  
  
"She's pregnant?" Mona watched in horror as the doctor looked between Angela and the other two occupants of the room.  
  
"You didn't know?" Dr. Young stopped scribbling.  
  
"No," Tony said quietly, sitting down beside Angela again and taking her hand in his. He couldn't begin to comprehend everything that was happening.  
  
"Why isn't she waking up?" Mona asked, her voice hushed.  
  
"We think it's just sheer exhaustion at this point—there's no reason otherwise that she shouldn't be awake and alert. I'm going to schedule some basic prenatal tests, and another ultrasound. We obviously need to examine the health of this baby if there hasn't been any previous testing." Dr. Young smiled kindly at the pair sitting by Angela's bedside. "She's going to be alright—she just needs to rest for a while, and when she wakes up, we have to figure out how to reduce her stress levels and get her levels back up to functional."  
  
Tony sighed. The doctor's diagnosis was somewhat reassuring, although now there was a whole other part of their life to be considered. They were having a baby.  
  
46***  
  
"Tony?" Her throat was hoarse from dehydration—all she really wanted was a glass of water—but first she wanted to know that Tony was there.  
  
"Hmmm," he asked groggily, before realizing that was Angela talking to him. "Angela," he asked, sitting bolt up right in the hard plastic chair.  
  
"Hi." She tried to force a smile, but she knew that he would see through any of her attempts.  
  
"How are you feelin'?" Brushing her hair out of her face, he rested on the edge of her bed, wanting to be that little bit nearer to her.  
  
"I'm okay. What happened?"  
  
Tony sighed. "You let yourself get really run down," he told her, recognizing it was at least the truth.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said honestly, biting her lip. "I thought I was okay to handle everything, but apparently not."  
  
Tony felt a pang of guilt. "Well it's not something you should apologize for, really. Maybe I should apologize for not taking better care of you."  
  
"Oh, Tony," Angela couldn't believe he was blaming himself. "Don't ever think this is your fault—you've done everything you could to keep me from working eighteen hour days and...Tony?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can you get me a glass of water, please?"  
  
Tony practically leapt to his feet, and got a glass from the stand. Bringing it back to her, he debated how to tell her the other part of why she was in the hospital.  
  
He had decided he couldn't have too much of an opinion one way or another—he didn't want to pressure her into feeling something she didn't, and at the same time, he didn't want to make her feel guilty for being pregnant.  
  
Admittedly, he was thrilled that a little combination of him and Angela were growing inside of her, and that they'd be able to raise the baby in a family that loved it...but the other part of him was rational, and realized this was the last thing Angela had counted on happening, and if she had thought about it, she probably would have been taking birth control or something of the sort.  
  
"What's wrong?" Angela watched Tony and could tell that he was having some form of internal debate with himself.  
  
"I'm just thinkin'," he said, before building his courage. "I was thinking about something the doctor said, and I was wondering how you felt about it."  
  
She looked at him quizzically, and then when he didn't offer any more information, she laughed. "Are you going to tell me?"  
  
"The doctor said that, uh...You're pregnant." Tony watched for a change in her expression. He could see the underlying surprise and maybe a little apprehension.  
  
"He said I'm pregnant?"  
  
"Yeah...we have an ultrasound set up for this morning so we can find out how far along you are, and to make sure everything is okay," Tony said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Are you okay?"  
  
Angela chewed her lip, wondering when that became the only way she could think. She was pregnant. She was pregnant with Tony's baby.  
  
"I'm okay," she replied truthfully. "I'm more than a little shocked," Angela confessed.  
  
"I just want you to know," Tony said, hoping she understood what he was trying to say, "that whatever you decide, and whatever happens, I understand that it's your body and I just want you to know that I love you no matter what." It almost killed him to speak those words—the last thing he wanted to think about was the possibility that Angela might want to terminate the pregnancy. But at the same time, he also understood that he shouldn't make a decision for her—whatever happened, he wanted to know that she was happy with the outcome.  
  
"Are you saying...?" Angela looked at him in disbelief; she never could have imagined him giving anyone permission to abort a baby—especially not his own. "Is that what you want?"  
  
Tony felt like she had totally misunderstood what he had attempted to say. "NO!" He had spoken more strongly than he had intended. "I mean, I love you and I think that having a baby together is a blessing, but I don't want you to feel like you have to keep this baby to keep me. I want you to know that if you don't want this baby then I won't pressure you into keeping it."  
  
Angela closed her eyes for a moment; it was all a little too much to handle at once. "I was kind of...excited when you told me I was pregnant. But are you sure you're comfortable with the idea of it?"  
  
"Angela, I'm more than okay with it—I spent have the night thinking about how this baby would look, and what we would name it, and how great you'd look when you were eight months pregnant...I've been thinking about it ever since the doctor told me. But I know that you have the agency, and I know that we already have two children. I didn't know if that would be too much for you—to add to the family again. We've never talked about it, so if you feel like..." Tony was trying to sound understanding.  
  
"There were lots of things we hadn't talked about before, and now look at us. We're engaged, we're having a baby...we've come a long way from where we were a year and a half ago." Angela smiled when she squeezed his hand. "Do you think you'll be able to handle a baby around? And more importantly, do you think you'll be able to deal with me when I'm eight and a half months pregnant and hormonal?"  
  
Tony grinned. "I've already covered that base. We'll just keep an over flowing stock of ice cream around, and as many flowers around as possible."  
  
"Why the flowers," Angela asked, certain that he had his motivation.  
  
"Because I know how much they cheer you up—no matter how bad things are, a bunch of flowers can really make you feel better."  
  
"You know me too well," Angela sighed.  
  
"Well, that's my job," Tony said, brushing off the comment. "Now, get some rest, and don't worry too much because things are pretty good right now. And whatever you do, don't let this all stress you out—we'll figure things out as we go." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, before squeezing her hand in his.  
  
Closing her eyes, Angela wondered what he wasn't telling her—there was certainly something. But for now, she decided, she'd have to make do with thinking about their baby, and wondering when it was conceived.  
  
47***  
  
"Hey sleeping beauty," Tony said, smiling. He had been relieved when Angela fell back asleep and even happier when she slept for almost four hours. If there was one thing she needed, he knew it was rest, and that was something she hadn't been getting for a very long time.  
  
"Mmmm...This would be so much better of a wake up call if we were at home in our own bed," Angela mumbled opening her eyes.  
  
"Except that if we were at home in our own bed, you might not be resting, and more importantly, we wouldn't be about to go in for our first ultrasound."  
  
Angela's eyes widened to almost saucer size. "We're going for an ultrasound?"  
  
"Yep. We're going in about five minutes—we're gonna catch our first glimpses of little baby...Eunice."  
  
"Eunice?" Angela hadn't meant to sound so horrified, but the thought that he would want to name their child something so abhorrent...  
  
He laughed, mildly amused by the panic stricken face that she had made. "It's not what I want to name the baby, I promise." He watched as she released a deep breath. "Marie and I did that, when we found out she was pregnant with Sam—we called Sam baby Iggy. We hated referring to her as 'it' or 'the baby'. It was like our own little code—'cept that I want to share that with you too."  
  
Angela looked at Tony apprehensively. "So you promise that when it comes time to choose a name, you won't rally for Eunice?"  
  
"Promise," he said, before entwining her fingers with his.  
  
"Well, you seem a lot better than you were before," Dr. Young said, making an entrance into the room. As he made his way over to the bed, he extended his hand. "I'm Doctor Young—I've been attending to you since you came in yesterday afternoon. And Doctor Laity saw you through the night."  
  
"Thank you," Angela said, before entwining her fingers with Tony's again.  
  
"My pleasure," he said, before leaning against the edge of the bed. "Now, is it true you didn't know you were pregnant?"  
  
"I most definitely did not know," Angela said truthfully. "In fact..." she felt a little awkward saying the next part—not that she was ashamed of saying it in front of Tony but it was still a weird thing to say, considering she should know her own body well enough by now. "I uh, thought I've been having my periods—I mean, they've been lighter than normal, but still more or less present."  
  
"You were probably spotting, which isn't uncommon, especially in high stress pregnancies. But your periods in the past few months to say, eight months, have been drastically lighter than they were before, right?"  
  
Angela nodded.  
  
"That's because the severity of your anemia—your body is hoarding as much of your iron as possible, which means it's been changing your cycle." The doctor looked at his charts. "Without having done the ultra sound, I can't really give you a more definitive answer, which we will certainly want, so why don't we save the rest of the questions until later and let you see your baby?"  
  
Both Angela and Tony's eyes grew wide. This was a big deal.  
  
48***  
  
"This will be cold," Doctor Young said as he squeezed clear jelly on to Angela's still flat stomach. "The trick is to not think about water," he teased.  
  
Angela cringed when the seemingly freezing goo landed on her stomach. "Easy for you to say," she mumbled, before looking up at Tony.  
  
"Small bladder?" Tony smiled, knowing that it was more her nerves causing her to be so snippy and not the actual process.  
  
"Alright, now here's the thing—when I put this over your abdomen, you'll see a bunch of shapes, and what we'll do is find what we need to, and then I'll point out all the things you'll probably want to see." The wand touched against her stomach and almost instantaneously a picture appeared on the screen.  
  
"Wild," Tony said, soaking in the reality that the grey fuzz he was seeing on the television monitor like thing was really their baby.  
  
Angela squeezed his hand more tightly.  
  
The next few minutes passed in relative silence as the doctor made notes in the chart and scribbled down measurements. He moved the wand back and forth and then smiled before he moved his finger to the screen. "This," he pointed to a spherical looking object, "this is your baby's head, and if you look here," he pulled the cursor further down the screen, "this is your baby's spinal cord."  
  
Angela sucked in her breath and watched as their baby became less of a mystery to them, and she met Eunice for the first time.  
  
"Baby's really well developed—I'm thinking you're further along than we thought. I'd say maybe even about four and a half months," Doctor Young said, examining the ultrasound further. "Baby looks in really good health, and looks about the weight we'd want at this point, if a little light."  
  
"Everything's okay?" Tony watched as the wand moved again and displayed a new picture.  
  
Doctor Young smiled. "Everything's great."  
  
"Look at that Angela; our little Eunice is so big." Tony smiled before he looked down at her, not surprised when he saw tears forming in her eyes. He was close to joining her.  
  
"She's really something, isn't she?"  
  
It was so much to absorb, especially after so little time. Only that morning had she found out she was pregnant, but to find out she was so far along—conceivably half way through her pregnancy?  
  
"Any regrets?" Tony watched Angela for any signs that she was reluctant or uncomfortable.  
  
"None," she said sincerely, mesmerized by the screen.  
  
***  
  
"So we'll have to make some changes," Angela said decisively. "This little one needs to gain some weight, and I need to figure out how to balance work and home—and we need to decide how we're going to raise it."  
  
Tony laughed. "I've known for less than twenty four hours, you've known for less than twelve...do you think that maybe you might be rushing it a bit?"  
  
"Okay, maybe, but I don't want to mess this up. I can't work like I've been working, and I can't let my career impact on this one's life. That preeclampsia thing seems pretty serious, even if it's not that serious. I don't want to risk Eunice's health for the sake of a campaign." Angela wondered if it was because of her hormones or if it was because she really had just opened her eyes to reality, but one way or another, it would be worth taking advantage of the rationale.  
  
"I agree—the doctor said that the only way to maintain your health will be to cut back, and to make sure you eat things that are good for you. And if you can't keep the stressful stuff off your desk, we'll have to find a way around it. I don't want anything to happen to either of you." It was the fact that she was actually considering not working as hard or as much as she always had that surprised him. It was the last thing he had expected to come from her mouth.  
  
Angela smiled, glad that there was a resolution without any major conflict. Her hand subconsciously made its way down her abdomen to rest over 'Eunice'. "I can't believe we're half way to having a baby!"  
  
"It was one of those wonderful surprises," Tony said honestly. "And you know what I figured out just after the doctor told us?" Angela just looked at him, curiously. "Eunice was conceived right around Valentine's day."  
  
Angela grinned at the implication. "Apparently we're a better match than we thought, considering we managed to get this little one out of the very beginning of ... that part of our relationship."  
  
"Well, ya know," Tony began teasingly before he decided to discuss something seriously. "You're sure you don't have any regrets? I mean, that's like getting pregnant your first time having sex." He had been searching for a less graphic, or harsh way of describing it, but that was essentially, probably what happened.  
  
"I think we are a lot more mature than a sixteen year old who just lost her virginity, or whatever. I think we're a different type of couple," Angela answered honestly. "And I know that you love me and respect me just as much as I love you and respect you—I don't have any doubts."  
  
That seemed to be all of the reassurance that Tony needed. "So, we have to tell the kids," he pointed out. "They've been worried sick, I know, because I just couldn't bring myself to go home, and Mona was trying to downplay everything. But they're still worried...We all love you so much and the idea of losing you terrifies me."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere." Lifting his hand and resting it with hers on her stomach, Angela and Tony wondered what four months would bring, and what it would be like to have a baby together.  
  
49***  
  
Helping Angela through the door at 3344 Oakhills Drive, Tony was so happy to have her back home. Sleeping at the hospital wasn't his favourite thing to do, and not having her beside him wasn't an option, so he'd stayed with her for the entire week that they had kept her in the hospital.  
  
Now, bringing her home, there were only a few simple rules: no days longer than eight hours at work, no bringing work home with her, no running or weight lifting exercises, Angela had to eat at least three square meals a day, and she couldn't do any heavy lifting. Not such a bad deal, they decided, considering the alternative was to keep her in the hospital until they could deliver the baby (which would have to be early). Delivery was, according to Doctor Young, the only way to 'cure' the preeclampsia. Everything he had asked her to do was merely preventative.  
  
"Surprise," Mona, Jonathon and Sam called out in unison as Angela and Tony walked through the door. There was a large banner that read 'congratulations' over the fireplace and balloons everywhere.  
  
Angela grinned widely. "What a welcome home!"  
  
"You're tellin' me!" Tony beamed. "Mona! You couldn't keep your big mouth shut?" He had been trying to sound angry, but he couldn't help but being thrilled that they were being welcomed home warmly.  
  
"Not over something like this, bubba," Mona teased, thrilled that her daughter was finally home, and even more impressed that Tony had let her walk around. Mona had this image of Tony carrying Angela everywhere until she gave birth.  
  
"We'll forgive you," Angela said cheerily, before rushing over to the kids to give them hugs. "I've missed you," she told Jonathon, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tightly.  
  
"I missed you too, mom," he said, returning the hug.  
  
Standing and straightening her shirt, Angela walked over to Sam. "Thank you for taking care of mother and Jonathon while we were away," Angela whispered.  
  
"No problem."  
  
"I've missed you sweetheart," Angela said genuinely, moving in for a hug, and more than a little upset that Sam didn't hug her back.  
  
The lack of affection did not go unnoticed by Tony.  
  
"SO," Mona interrupted, "how's it feel to be out and free?"  
  
Angela appeared pensive before she would respond. "Heavenly," came her response.  
  
"She's just saying that because there aren't any more people to poke or prod her around here—and there aren't any needles." Tony gestured over to the couch before sitting down, hoping that Angela would also take a seat.  
  
"Well..." The tone in Mona's voice alluded to much more as she wiggled her eye brows and winked at her daughter.  
  
"Behave mother!"  
  
"Practicing for when the baby grows up?"  
  
"No, practicing for when you come home late," Angela said sweetly, hoping her mother wouldn't tease her too much about being ... her age and pregnant. And technically (and worse yet) her age, pregnant, with her boyfriend's baby.  
  
"Ha ha," Mona remarked snidely. "You can't even stay awake that late."  
  
Tony couldn't help but notice that Sam was being uncharacteristically quiet. Obviously something was bothering her, which meant another daddy/daughter talk.  
  
"So where are you putting the baby?" Jonathon looked anxiously between his mother and Tony.  
  
"We haven't decided yet, but I'd imagine in Tony's old room," Angela said, wondering why this all felt so practiced.  
  
"When is it coming," Sam asked, her voice mechanical.  
  
Tony fought the inclination to drag her out of the room and talk to her right then. He was going to wait, but it wouldn't be much longer, he decided.  
  
"Actually, we're due about the middle of November," Angela said, before looking up at Tony. "Could you maybe fix me a sandwich? I'm feeling a little hungry and I've not had lunch yet."  
  
Tony nearly jumped to his feet. "Peanut butter and Jelly?"  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
"Anyone else want anything?" Tony waited for everyone to be accounted for before he left the room.  
  
"I'm going to Marcy's," Sam announced. "I'll probably be staying there for dinner."  
  
"Uh, well maybe you should check with your dad first, because I think he had a family dinner planned for all of us," Angela said, reluctant to say anything for fear of a teenage-hormone-driven-explosion.  
  
"Whatever, I'll be home for dinner then," Sam snapped, before heading for the door.  
  
With the slamming of the door, Angela turned to Jonathon. "Honey, could you go see if Tony maybe needs a hand in the kitchen?"  
  
"Sure," the boy responded, before darting through the kitchen door.  
  
"She's just scared," Mona said reassuringly to her daughter.  
  
"Of a baby?" Of all the reactions Angela had expected, one of fear wasn't on the list.  
  
"Of her father having a baby with a woman other than her mother—of what it will do to her place in the family..."  
  
Angela looked at Mona, completely confused. "She's Tony's daughter—hell, I think of her as a daughter. How could she doubt her place in the family?"  
  
"But maybe you only think of her as your daughter because you don't have one?" Mona sighed. "I'm not saying I understand everything she's feeling, and I'm not saying that I agree with her, but when Sam and I talked...she's just scared. It will take some time."  
  
"How much time, because we have a baby that will be here in less than five months, and I don't want to have all of this extra stress to deal with once Eunice gets here," Angela said. She hadn't realized how frequently her hand came to rest on her stomach until Mona had made her aware of it, and now she'd taken to counting it. Seven: for the day, that was.  
  
Mona stared at her daughter in sheer confusion. "Eunice?"  
  
"Don't ask, and no, that's not its name."  
  
"Oh. Well, all I can say is, maybe you should talk to her, and maybe you should let her know that you aren't going to trade her in for a crying, yelling, sleeping three hours at a time pooping machine."  
  
"When you put it that way, Mona," Tony said, entering the room with a tray, and Jonathon hot on his heals with another tray, "I'm not sure I want one." He smiled mischievously, before placing the tray in front of Angela. "There are some vegetables, some fruit, and two types juice, in addition to your sandwich, my dear."  
  
"Did you know Tony has a book of what foods are best for you when you're pregnant?" Jonathon set down his tray before realizing he said too much. "Ops," he said regretfully.  
  
"So much for our little secret, eh buddy?"  
  
"Yeah, well she would have found out eventually anyway," Jonathon said before he stole a slice of cheese.  
  
Angela smiled. "You two are the greatest men a woman could want."  
  
"We know," they said in unison, before laughing at themselves. 50***  
  
"You made it home," Angela said, pushing open the slightly ajar door. She had felt horrible about the conversation earlier, only because the last thing Angela wanted was conflict in their little family.  
  
"Yeah, well you said dad was doing a family dinner."  
  
"He'll be really happy you're home." At the last minute, Angela decided that there was no need to beat around the bush. "I am too—I've missed being home this last week, really. I like being here at night and getting to say good night to you and Jonathon."  
  
"Funny. You work an awful lot of late nights. But I guess when you feel like it, it's nice to have people to come home to." Sam felt bad being so curt with Angela, but a part of her was still hung up on all of the things that had been bothering her.  
  
"That's not fair," Angela said, before realizing she wouldn't be able to rationalize out what was 'fair' and what was just. "You know, Sam, I'm so lucky to have your father in my life, and I'm incredibly luck to have you. You wouldn't believe how much it means to me to have you both here..."  
  
"When you're home, right?"  
  
"I know I've been working a lot lately, and I know it's not been fair to you or Jonathon. And for that I'm very sorry. I've not been trying to stay out but there's been a lot going on at work, and I've not been feeling well." Angela sighed. This was going to be harder than she thought. "This pregnancy has been really hard so far, and it was even harder because I didn't even know I was pregnant. I had no clue, really, and then with work...But I know that's no excuse, and I wish I had been home more for you and Jonathon. I can't change that now though, so you'll have to believe me when I say I will do my best to be around more now."  
  
Sam sat down on her bed and laid back, wishing she could be really mean to Angela—she wish she had it in her to hate her. But, truth be told, there wasn't any way of hating Angela because she loved her too much. She had been as much a mother to her as a friend, and even when things were less than wonderful, she had managed to make Sam feel at home.  
  
"I know you're scared that this baby will change something, but I promise you it won't change how we feel about you, or how much we love you. I know that is a big promise to make, but it's true."  
  
There was an eerie silence before Sam made a decision.  
  
"Do you think the baby is going to look like you or dad?"  
  
Angela smiled. "I've been wondering about that too. I hope it looks like a combination of us. If it's a girl, with your beautiful dark hair and big brown eyes...We'll just have to wait and see..."  
  
"Angela?"  
  
"Yes sweetheart?" Her voice was more hopeful than she had intended, but there was no way to disguise what she was feeling; nothing in the world would make her happier than to have her family 'fixed' again, and ready to face all the challenges that would certainly happen upon them in the years to come.  
  
"Do you think we could just sit and talk for a while?"  
  
"Sure," Angela said, laying back on the bed and holding Sam's hand. "You start."  
  
***  
  
"When I didn't hear any screaming," Tony said, making his entrance.  
  
There were his two favourite women in the world, laying on the bed side by side. It seemed almost too perfect, and Tony feared for a moment that he would wake up and realize that his life wasn't really perfect.  
  
There had been stressful times, and days when it seemed more likely that his world would crumble than it would continue to turn on its axis. There had been hasty words and split second changes of heart; there were tough decisions that caused rifts and eventually, there were tough decisions that brought them back together again.  
  
But here he was, surrounded by beauty and love, and for once there was no question as to whether or not he had maybe strayed from the right path. He was where he was meant to be.  
  
After another minute passed, a smile spread across his face. He couldn't deny it, life really was perfect. 


End file.
